Flesh and Bone
by coeur-d'astronaute
Summary: Four years after the infamous Attack on 15, Gail is actually figuring her life out: Career, friends, love. She was never quite good at curveballs though.
1. Chapter 1

_Here I go, I'll tell you what you already know.  
__Here I go, I'll tell you what you already know._

The apartment on Vine Street was a disaster. Between the discarded clothes and haphazard stacks of near empty take-out containers, the wires for laptop connections, surveillance, and a few ammo cartridges littered the living room of the tiny one-bedroom dwelling. Both inhabitants, being horrible cooks and maids in their own rights, embraced the chance to play up their dirty lifestyles, committing fully to the sell and the littered ambiance akin to a college dorm room. The few months they'd inhabited the small apartment didn't see much of a desire to improve it as time wore on. Mismatched couches and a television from confiscated materials adorned the living room with little else. No pictures on the walls, no personality of the occupants. The apartment on Vine Street was little more than a sleep-away camp from reality for the two cops on the run from the growing realness of their regular lives back home, and it showed in the decor.

"Aren't you going home?" Gail asked as she heard her counterpart milling about in the kitchen, and began shoving a few scattered pieces of clothing into her small knapsack. She held a shirt up to her nose and decided it needed to be washed eventually and thus should resume its position on the spare chair with the other clothes that needed to be washed.

She didn't bother to look up at her tall, gangly partner as he hovered in the kitchen with a spoonful of cereal dripping near his mouth, shielded by his hunched shoulders. There was a tiredness deep in his hazy eyes that made Gail oddly happy to have the part she was assigned in this operation. It didn't involved midnight runs and daily shifts. Instead she was the cocky, emotionally distant daughter-character that came quite easily. Now, she only did it with red hair.

"And miss a moment of the glitz and glamour of undercover? Fat chance," he shrugged, crunching happily across the counter.

"It's the first weekend off in three months. You should get out of here," the former blonde dug under cushions for another piece of clothing she swore had been in the vicinity. "Where's my -"

"By the bookshelf," he gestured absently before she had to finish her thought. Gail dug around quickly before righting herself victoriously and stuffing the remaining space of her knapsack full. She was in a rush and she didn't care about folding or even what she really packed. She wanted to leave three hours ago, but things were moving too slowly at her day job to go unnoticed.

"You're not going to miss me too badly are you?" Gail tried, surveying one final time and mentally running through her short list.

"Am I going to miss you hogging the games and using all of the hot water?" James asked from the kitchen as the water ran and his bowl clamoured against the metal of the sink. "Or your complete and total uselessness in the morning and incessant, angry-brooding silence? There's always your naturally warm disposition."

"Yeah, all of that," she shrugged. "Thirty-nine hours, mockery and sarcasm free. I know you've built up a tolerance, and I wouldn't want my hard work in training you in my ways to be for nothing."

"I think I'll manage," he said, stretching his long arms up to the wall above the door as he beat against it with his palms in slow, methodic rhythm. "I have a meet with O'Dowd in the morning."

"What?" Gail stopped, mid-swing of her bag and stared at him hard and angry. "I can't miss that." Her handler told her that she would be free to go. He'd told her that for the past three months, and this was the weekend. She couldn't wait any longer. It was this weekend.

"He doesn't want you there, Nora," the partner shrugged and stilled his hands, leaning forward and stretching his shoulders and back. "I think it's _the talk_, if you know what I mean."

"Papa must really like you," Gail shook her head and ran her hand through her hair. "You cleared it then?" He nodded. Gail spent a moment studying him as he grinned at her and tried to charm her into believing that he'd be alright. But three months spent with someone was enough to learn to read them, and he was nervous and not as at ease as he portrayed. "And I am finishing the WITSEC thing."

"Allegedly," he nodded in agreement.

James Connolly was not a horrible person to be stuck with as a boyfriend for three months. Tall and gangly, slim but defined like a swimmer, he had shoulders full of freckles and a chin that pointed and jaw that sloped almost gracefully in a strong, stern way. A break in his nose as a teenager left a small knot on the bridge that only made his brow seem more penetrating and heavy in the asymmetricalness of his nose. Though he appeared severe and tough, it only took a few minutes after meeting him for his face to relax and his eyes to glow a kind of warm and his lips to open into a full teeth kind of smile that dispelled the rugged, brawler exterior. Gail preferred the ruggedness that came in his personality, though the easiness of his demeanour helped beyond her realization.

Gracious and quick-witted, bred and pedigreed from a lineage of cops much like Gail, they shared a kinship that bordered on brother and sister, perhaps even, in Gail's personal and inexperienced opinion, genuine, equal friends. He was someone she was surprised her mother hadn't tried to arrange a marriage to with his parents at some white shirts meeting years ago, though grateful it never happened. At first he seemed too happy and eager for Gail's taste, and her too angry and precise for him; they proved themselves different people than their impressions, both with James being altogether resigned to periods of reflectivity and ponderousness that often led others to think him melancholic or unhappy, and Gail occasionally passing off her severity and defensive posture for quirky, snarky humour. While he was not quick to anger, though unstoppable when inclined to a rage that stormed through his soul and lasted for days, Gail found the balance in her quick temper and the relative quick passing of her stormy moods. Though often their similarities led to bickering and arguments, there remained a level of understanding and an affinity for the other beneath it all that steadily grew as the became partners.

One night after emptying a few bottles on their back porch and shooting at them with air soft guns, James even went as far as to tell Gail that she was his friend. And even when she mocked him and asked for friendship bracelets and a slumber party birthday celebration, he just shrugged and said whatever she wanted. He introduced her to Hitchcock that night and she talked through the whole thing, much to his displeasure. But she did rent another for them the next night. That was her offer of mutual friendship, and for the most part he knew that. Gail was almost afraid to leave their operation because she would lose her only friend, like a sixth grader at the end of the school year, even though it was just a few hours.

"Go, don't worry," he assured her, finally letting his arms drop as Gail adjusted her bag and rethought her plans. Though she was told she could have a little while off, she could reschedule easily. "A quick meet and then I'll be home and eagerly dismantling your high scores."

"Ha," Gail snorted. "Just make sure you wear sunscreen if you go out because I refuse to listen to your whining and having to touch that lotion that heals it. I hate it and it smells like plants."

"That's the point," he shook his head.

"And clean up this place a bit."

"For all of the entertaining we do?"

"Be safe," Gail tried. The words felt weird in her mouth, as if she might not have meant them. That bothered her, but she didn't know how else to say them and mean them more than she did. This was new for her, still.

"Have fun," he smiled to put her at ease.

"You remember the story?"

"I've done this more than you. Don't back seat cop me."

"I'll see you Sunday night," Gail ignored his snark.

"Good luck. You'll need it more than I will," James followed, grabbing a clean shirt from the pile atop the washing machine and trying to untangle it. He followed Gail to the door.

Gail froze at the screen door and realized what she was potentially walking into back home. She'd been that girl before; she understood that girl, before. And now, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to fix it or if she was wanted. She couldn't think of anything worse to say back to him, so she just threw her bag into the clunker of a car and got in without giving him another look.

Grinning and waving lazily from his position leaning against the door and behind the screen, James watched her go and wondered to himself what kind of partner he would get back after this visit home. Though he understood that Gail left someone back home and he had no real reason to go back, even for a few hours, he also knew that being away from home and cut off from communication for three months couldn't be fixed with a few hours, and often it was only made worse. But Gail was unlike anyone he'd ever met before, and therefore she was a wildcard.

With one last look at the retreating car lights, James believed that if anyone could beat the toll of undercover work and come out oddly better for it and not as damaged as most, it'd be the one who came into it not quite normal in the first place. Either way, he was oddly intrigued by his new friend, and grateful for her as a partner.

* * *

The apartment on Church Street was quiet. It was a slightly unnerving quiet that seeped into the walls and silenced the windows, and Holly still wasn't used to it. Her movements felt louder than they actually words, as if the noise reverberated off of the walls and quiet and ran into itself in her ears over and over and over again. The clamour of her keys in the bowl on the table by the door. The snapping of the deadbolt in its rocker. The ruckus of her thoughts as she leaned against the door and surveyed the neat and orderly apartment before her. The sigh.

For the past 106 days, Holly had opened the door to her place with a determination to not be daunted by the quiet and stillness that waited there. She failed nearly every day. Some, she was more successful than others at pretending, but most times the door closed, the realization that Gail was not there hit her in some small way. Sometimes she scolded herself for thinking it'd be any different. Most, she scolded her girlfriend for not being there, music playing or television blaring in the background, elbows deep in dishes she let sit all day, no matter what, a cacophony of life always waited on days that Holly returned from work after the cop in her life. She didn't realize how loudly Gail existed in her life until she just disappeared so suddenly.

Even when her friends made her go out for drinks, or Holly got distracted and forgot that she hadn't heard from her girlfriend for over three months, she found a quiet that was left from the void in her absence. Four years of someone worming themselves into her life would do that though. Four years of dirty clothes left on the floor and good-hearted attempts at dinner that resulted in burnt or as Gail called it 'crispy' versions of recipes, of ups and downs and growing around each other, of fights and make-ups and parties and simple nights in the same bed and mornings that lasted until dinner time. Four birthdays each, four christmases, four New Year's kisses.

Holly understood what Gail was doing. She understood that she needed to go for her job and she found something she enjoyed and she had to prove herself out of her brother's shadow which meant that she had to earn it beyond what anyone else would have to earn it. Holly knew all of this. But as she kicked off her shoes and peeled the tape holding a cotton ball from the crook of her elbow, she just kind of wanted to forget it all and have that ridiculously snarky and overtly weird girl back, just for a night, just for this.

"Hey Sophe," Holly dug her phone out of her pocket and stopped poking at the black and blue area forming near the needle marks on her arm. "No, no, I made it home." Absently she listened to the voice on the other side of the phone that worried and prodded. "I was at work."

Holly moved to the kitchen while her best friend chatted and scolded and asked questions that she couldn't answer. She grunted and laughed and told her not to worry while digging through the fridge for some leftovers that were unappealing and returned to their position.

"My arm is just a bit sore," Holly pushed aside a few of Gail's old beers and tried to find something for her empty stomach. "I get the results in a few days. So don't freak out just yet."

As she closed the door she saw pictures and take out menus littering the freezer door. Maybe it was the blood tests or round of observations the doctors did and the empty chair beside her bed, or the quiet in her house and the pure extent of time that had passed, but she longed for Gail, for her abrasive girlfriend to put on her brave, defensive face and be tough and outlandishly unbothered by the day and the waiting for results.

"Of course I am still hosting it," Holly rolled her eyes at her best friend. Perhaps that wasn't a big enough term. What else do you call someone who has been around since Kindergarten? "I am the maid of honour, after all, right?" Holly laughed at her friend's audible eye roll.

The picture of Gail's brother's wedding stuck out on the fridge beneath a magnet from Montréal and tucked over a take out menu and a picture hand-drawn by Holly's niece. Holly wondered if she'd have a date to her best friends wedding. They'd been kind of lucky in the past. There was Frank's wedding, when she kissed Gail for the first time. Holly's sister's wedding when Gail met her family. And Steve's, where Holly met the Pecks. Weddings were like magic for them, except for the inevitable talk of how much Gail hated the idea and institution of marriage. But that passed, and Holly was able to get a picture of a smiling Gail and herself laughing with the bride and groom.

"I'll see you Tuesday night for dinner," Holly promised, gazing at the other pictures. Taking Leo to the zoo. The annual police and fire bbq. A baseball game Gail reluctantly got Holly tickets to for her birthday. Gail's stupid face hiding in Holly's hair by a waterfall. "No, I'm fine," Holly muttered. "Just tired. It's been a long week."

A knock on her door drew her away from the fridge and stroll down memory lane. Mortality and missing who she'd become over those four years of memories on her fridge with Gail made her feel exhausted. She allowed herself one day for that feeling every now and then.

"Listen, I have to go. I promise I'm okay. Thank you for checking up on me."

When she looked through the peephole, all she saw was flowers and smiled to herself, excited at the possibility of Gail sending her something even though it was beyond the rules of her assignment.

"Yes, I'm sure that I still love her and she should be done with her transfer rotation anytime now," Holly lied. "I love you." With a protest from her friend again and another dismissal, another knock let Holly hang up without feeling more guilt.

The bouquet of big yellow sunflowers had a perfume that met Holly as soon as she opened the door. It was bigger than any mass of flowers she'd ever seen. She was so distracted by it and the idea that they were from Gail that she became paralyzed a bit at it. She barely even noticed as they moved a bit in the arms of whoever had been delivering them.

"Well, hello there," a familiar voice made Holly drop her phone. The voice came from a familiar face though without the standard bleached whitish blonde hair that normally sat atop its owner's head.

Gail grinned as the door opened and she found Holly's surprised face. Gail knew it was a cocky grin. She knew it was a grin that could get her into trouble. She knew that it was much cooler than the anxiousness and excitement she felt in finally seeing her girlfriend. She didn't betray those feelings. Instead she just stayed eagerly half-hidden behind the bouquet and watched Holly's face contort with excitement and disbelief.

She was not a fan of flowers. She thought they were a rather pointless gift because they would die in a few days and she hated how they looked when they did. But Holly loved sunflowers. She loved the colour and smell and the look of them. So that meant Gail knew what to get whenever she messed up or whenever she wanted to make Holly kiss her like crazy. And tonight, she had a lot to apologize and make up to her girlfriend.

"Gail?" Holly smiled and brought her hand to her mouth. Her eyebrows peaked in confusion. "What are you...? How...?"

"I have thirty-nine hours of time off, and I couldn't think of anywhere better to spend it than with you. The flowers were a buffer, as well. If she hadn't had them right now, she'd be fidgeting like mad.

"Oh my God," Holly exhaled, the missing and exhaustion of just a few minutes ago draining from her limbs. She pushed herself forward and grabbed Gail as tightly as she could.

"Hi," Gail grinned as the flowers nearly smushed between them and her girlfriend grabbed her neck so tightly she thought she'd die.

"I can't believe it," Holly shook her head and gripped at whatever part of her girlfriend she could hold.

"I didn't think you'd recognize me," Gail sighed, closing her eyes and tucking her chin into her girlfriend's neck. Even with hands full, she held her tight and enjoyed being held tighter.

"I always had a thing for redheads," Holly returned.

"Really..."

Gail couldn't even finish her indignant question before Holly rooted her hands in the new red-tinted hair and kissed her like she hadn't been able to breathe for three months without her. She kissed her breathless and she kissed her so she would never leave again. Gail felt her hands and her tongue and her lips and forgot how to even spell her own name.

"I've missed you," Holly sighed as she inhaled deeply to refill her own lungs. She watched Gail's eyes flutter under her eyelids in wonder.

"Holy cow," Gail swallowed and opened her eyes a few seconds later. "I should go away like this all of the time."

"Thirty-nine hours and then you go back?" Holly wondered, furrowing her brow against Gail's forehead. Her hand slipped form Gail's hair to her neck to her shoulders. She just nodded. "Thirty-nine hours."

Holly allowed herself one more minute of feeling Gail's arms around her. She held her girlfriend's cheek and neck and closed her eyes and smiled at it all. She could never be upset at Gail for loving her job and wanting to do well in it. This was important. And she had her right this moment.

With a gentle tug, Holly pulled Gail into the apartment they shared. She kicked the door and put the flowers in a pile on the table where her keys clanged not even an hour ago. Unencumbered by the weight of them and freeing up her hands, Gail didn't let Holly move an inch further without returning the favour of a mind-numbing kiss.

Thirty-nine hours had to make up for 106 days, and Gail wasn't going to waste a second more.

* * *

"Be safe," Holly whispered, tugging softly on Gail's collar. She stared at the bones of her girlfriend's collar. She ran her thumbs along the thin skin there, tracing the curve of the bones she'd long since memorized as distinctly Gail's. Faint and almost camouflaged on the pale skin was a tiny crescent moon scar over the tuberosity from a run-in with a nasty fence post when she was twelve and her brother wouldn't let her follow the boys. Holly followed her fingertips as they traced there and slid up the slender neck and traced the corners of her jaw.

Gail missed the weight of Holly's hands on her chest, heavy and warm and making her into something that existed. To allow someone's hands to make and to define was terrifying. She swallowed and pursed her lips as familiar hands cupped her neck and cheeks, as fingertips inched into her hair. Holly wouldn't look at her. Instead she licked her lips and stared at Gail's lips, stared at her jaw, stared at her neck.

"Only a little while longer," Gail sighed, steeling herself for this moment. She'd avoided thinking about it for the entire weekend and trip because she was afraid it would be too hard to actually leave and she might talk herself out of coming all together. But she'd been the one waiting before, and she didn't want to be away any longer.

"And then I'm making you take a long vacation," she wrapped her arms around Gail again. "In our bed."

"Deal," Gail grinned, running her thumb along Holly's hips.

"I love you," Holly swallowed. The entire weekend she wanted to tell Gail about the tests and not to go back and that she needed her, but deep down she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet. Not now. She would be fine and she wouldn't interrupt Gail's work.

"I love you," Gail returned. It was something she didn't say too often. She wasn't good at it. Somehow Holly was patient enough to understand it, or at least how Gail felt without her having to explain too much. That was the beauty of Holly.

Gently she leaned her forehead against her girlfriend's. Holly held her cheeks and held her close.

"You'll be okay until I get back?" Gail worried quietly. "You have everything you need? Oliver's been checking on you, right? and Steve? You know if you need anything there's Steve."

"Gail, I'm fine," Holly promised. "Traci has made me her duty to check on. I am more than watched by my own fleet of bodyguards." Gail nodded.

"Good."

"Go kick ass," Holly decided. "I want to be able to tell everyone the truth soon. That my girlfriend is a super secret undercover cop and works with her brother busting up guns and gangs."

"You can't just-" Holly kissed Gail's interruption. She knew what it would be. That Gail wasn't going to be on some stupid made up reality show in Holly's mind where her and her brother solved crime and cracked wise. Holly didn't care. It was how she dealt with the fact that her girlfriend used a gun every day and could easily end up on her slab. That was haunting and paralyzing and terrible and in the back of Holly's head at every moment.

"Thank you for coming home," Holly swallowed roughly and pulled on Gail's hair gently and lovingly.

"Always," Gail promised.

* * *

The apartment on Vine Street was immaculate. Clothes folded and stacked. Dishes washed and put away. Games stacked and cords folded. Gail almost couldn't recognize it when she walked it. She assumed it was a reverse burglary. That someone had broken in and fixed it all up to hide a crime. Tired and sore from her weekend in bed, Gail dropped her bag by the door and tried to believe that she wasn't dreaming.

"Welcome back," James greeted her eagerly from the kitchen.

"What happened here?" Gail walked slowly through the small living room.

"I got bored," he shrugged.

"You should have went home," Gail scolded as she took a stool at the counter.

"Tell me everything I missed."

"Home," Gail shrugged. "It's just home."

The entire drive back to the assignment, Gail thought about the weekend. About making Holly laugh for odd reasons. About who she had somehow become in four years since she walked into that crime scene. She had a home now. A place she missed. A girl she loved. She had friends. She had a career. She was happy.

"You ready to get your head back in it?" he asked, peeling a banana against the sink. She nodded. "You didn't spill any secrets?"

"Telling my girlfriend that I am pretending to be the long lost daughter of the Irish crime mob's boss while the real one is in WITSEC in order to bring down the eastern heroin distribution centre was not at the top of my list of topics."

"That usually makes the best pillow talk."

"The less work talk the better," Gail decided.

"Do I get to meet the lovely lady when we're done here?" James asked between bites.

"Like I could get away from you," Gail shook her head and shrugged.

"Maybe we'll both make Guns and Gangs and we can be partners, like a sitcom."

"You're going to get along well with her," Gail grinned and finished the other half of the banana he offered.


	2. Chapter 2

_But I would never leave you on your own. _  
_I would never leave you on your own._  
_I would never leave you all alone._  
_I would never leave you, no I will never leave you._  
_I will never leave you._  
_I will never leave you._

"You know he asked for your hand in marriage," O'Dowd said to Gail as she waved goodbye to her boyfriend.

James waved and smiled that devilish half-smile that would make anyone's stomach flop. It put Gail at ease, as if it was conspiratorial. As if they had a running joke.

"Yeah, well, marriage isn't exactly on my list of things to do anytime soon," Gail shrugged, taking her seat at the desk in the small trailer on the car lot. She doctored books. Or at least that was what her father had her do. Her real job was to get close to him. Her real job was to be a daughter. James found out about the pipelines and distributors. She learned and listened.

"He's a good boy," the oddly paternal man shrugged.

His face was hard. Years of hard work and sea breeze hard. Frowned and leathered hard. A scar ran along his cheek from a barber back in Ireland who had a grudge. It shimmered against his skin, pink and ripe against his pale skin. He was thin, though had the weight of age on his bones. His eyes were tired and droopy and blue like a sky at dusk. And his hair had lost the flare that James' held in the stubbornness of youth. The perpetual five-o'-clock shadow made him look older than the fifty-seven years actually possessed. He was severe and unrelenting, though for Gail, or Nora, his long-lost daughter, he was amiable and doting, often retreating to a child-like fatherly-ness when dealing with her. His quiet and reserved nature reminded Gail of her own father. Austere and even cold in a calculating and definitive way, both men and father's had a weakness for their daughters that would make them unrecognizable to some.

For Gail, he was a paradox. He was a father-figure that was easily confused with her own and often she felt as if she was playing out her own life. It didn't help, only made it harder.

"He's my best friend," Gail relented, shuffling papers. She found it easiest to tell the truth all of the time. Her handler told told her to be gung-ho about marriage, to play up daddy walking her down the aisle. But Gail was this daughter. She was this damaged, tough, bitter and snarky daughter who searched out this mob boss of a father because she wanted his approval, to understand him. She wouldn't care about marriage. She couldn't stand the idea, but she dialled it back somewhat.

"I told him it was your choice."

"Marriage didn't really work out so hot for my mom," Gail stared at him, lifeless and angry. He swallowed hard and looked at the desk he was leaning against.

"When I got you back," he looked up at her. "This was my chance to make it better. To fix my mistakes."

"Is that why you still run heroin across the northeast?" Gail chuckled and shook her head. "I thought the same thing. I thought I'd get a dad."

"You're here," he shook his head to defend himself.

"James told me about what you made him do to that man."

"He shouldn't."

"Why should I marry someone who will just end up dead like Mom? Or worse, a criminal like you?" Gail spat. She stood and pushed at her chair. "I think I messed up coming here. I don't know what I was expecting, but I guess I've always been chasing some ideal that I'll never get. I thought I knew what it meant to be an O'Dowd. Turns out I do, and I hate it."

"Why are you talking like this, a stóirín?" O'Dowd worried.

"I don't know," Gail shrugged. "I'm just tired." That was honesty. She wanted to go home, and everyone was ready to bust it soon enough. Plus, in a weird way, she was becoming attached to the father and his doting attention in ways that made her uncomfortable.

"I can't change who I am or who I've been," he shook his head. "I want you-"

The phone ringing in his office stopped his sentence. Gail stood, defiant and arms crossed in front of her as he looked at her, exasperated and tired himself. Since they'd been back together, reunited and such, they'd had talks, though never about the business to a big extent, and never explicitly about the past, though often it was alluded to and referenced. Gail needed to push him. Rattle him into something major.

Gail watched him talk into the phone and turn away from her, worried and hunched and speaking quickly in Gaelic. James would know what he was saying. That was why he got this job. He could blend. Gail was here because with a dye job she could pass as his daughter and made herself available for the job because she had to make up for before... for Jerry and for her last time. She couldn't be that. She had to do more. And though there were times that she remembered being chained to that table and hearing his shoes in the middle of the night, this job was much easier.

"Be ready at eight," O'Dowd turned to Gail.

"For what?"

He ignored her question and took a step towards her. The agitated voice on the phone that he used in annoyance faded and he stared at her. Gently he ran his knuckles along her cheek. His eyes were a darker shade of blue than her own, but still a kind of tempestuous type of ocean, moody and violent and swirling with something that could be anything.

"We will get it all fixed," he promised. "I have to go."

"Be safe, Da," Gail offered, genuine and sorry. Sometimes she wished she could do something. Sometimes she wished things were black and white. But this man just wanted a daughter and she just wanted a father and they were caught up in the make believe.

With a smile and nod he dropped his hand and walked out the door. A minute later, his car started and Gail picked up the phone to make her call.

* * *

"Those reports are waiting in the office," Holly didn't even look up as Oliver slid into the room, wringing his fingers anxiously. "The courier would have brought them over in the morning."

"Oh those," he shook his head. "Yeah, no worries."

"I can't run anymore diagnostics," she shook her head. "I have to get to my best friend's bridal shower and I am already going to be late." With a jerk of her arm, the bones of the body cracked and opened to give her a better look inside. "I'm the maid of honour. I can't be later than everyone."

"Holly," Oliver tried again. The words felt like lead in his mouth. He knew what came next. He knew the line.

"Oliver, I appreciate your constant visits to check on me, as per Gail's orders," another yank and sickening noise. Oliver looked at the ground and fumbled with his belt anxiously. He flipped the switch on his blaring radio. "But I have to get this done, and I'm running late."

"Holly," he watched the pathologist shake her head and laugh him off.

"Oliver, if you're still here, then that means that it's not for the results and it's not just a friendly visit before your shift is over," Holly moved quicker and with more purpose though more flustered and unable to actually focus. "Tell me there's another reason. Tell me it's not _the visit_. Tell me it's not _the visit_."

"Holly," he took a step forward as she looked up at him, eyes wide and mask moving quickly with her heavy breathing from both her work on the corpse and the anxiety that made her lungs feel smaller. "I need you to come with me... It's Gail."

"No," Holly shook her head and looked at the body on the slab in disbelief. "No, Oliver. She's fine. I saw her just a few weeks ago." She was certain and firm with her answer. There was no way she was getting _the visit_. Gail said her operation was almost over. She said that it was safe. She said that there was no threats or reasons to worry. She said she'd be fine. She said all of those things and she promised to come home. She said that.

Holly's mind was racing though her face remained still and unwavering. Oliver saw the thoughts behind her eyes, all banging against each other to get out, to reassure her that it was a mistake. He felt them in his own head as well. He wished they were right.

"Holly."

"Stop saying my name," she slammed her tools down on the stand. This was _the visit_.

"You have to come with me, darlin'," he told her. "Our girl needs you."

With a heavy head, Holly felt her shoulders buckle under its weight as it sagged. She didn't move away from Oliver's eyes. He saw everything on her face. He didn't know what to do or why he had been the person to jump up at the chance to come pick up Holly when the dust settled. But for some reason he did. Gail entrusted him with taking care of Holly and that meant doing this, for some odd reason.

"She's okay, Oliver, right?" Holly asked, still reserved and not betraying the fear.

"We're going to get you over there real quick and make sure," he tried. "I don't know much on the details. I didn't..." he licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I didn't make it out to the scene until it was all ending. I didn't see her."

"I knew I could get _the visit_. I just never thought I would get it," Holly sighed. She pulled at her mask and gloves after lifting the sheet over the patient once again. "It's like... out there. It's not real. It's like cancer or car accidents or wild fires. They happen to cousins of friends of friends of neighbours or something..." Holly was an anxious talker.

"She'll be okay," Oliver promised and hoped at the same time. "Come on, doc."

"One of us isn't going to make it," Holly shook her head and froze at the realization. "I thought it'd be me. I can't do this alone."

Perplexed and surprised, Oliver knitted his brow and took another step forward. When everything was beyond his control, he retreated to comforting and hopeful. It was his default and it was necessary.

"You won't be alone," he promised. "Gail will be fine. There was a bit of a skirmish and it has been a rough few days for her," Holly gasped slightly at that reveal. "But she is tough and she can come back from anything. I've seen it."

"I don't think she can," Holly shook her head as he hugged her tightly. She didn't lift her arms to return the hug. "She has to be alright."

"She will be," he promised again.

"She's not going to die, is she? She's not hurt that badly, right?"

"I don't think so," he nodded, rubbing her back and drying her cheeks that had unwittingly wet themselves. "I think it's just a few injuries that need looked at. She got beat up pretty bad. She looks in worse shape than she is, I guess. That was the last of what I heard on my way here. But I don't know the extent of it."

"Let's go," Holly decided. Gail needed her and she was going to be there.

Oliver watched the resolve and a strength form in Holly's spine. It never ceased to amaze him the looks that spouses got when they got _the visit__. _He had a soft spot for Peck. He had a soft spot for Holly. Out of all of his rookies, Gail was the one he worried about least. Holly helped with that, and this moment was a reason why.

"She's going to be okay," Holly said as they left the office.

"She is," Oliver agreed.

* * *

"I don't know," Gail spit and coughed an answer. Another boot connected with her ribs and she rolled across the warehouse floor. Her eyes could barely open, but when they did she closed them and lolled her head back and forth.

The cold of the concrete made the blood feel warmer on her skin. It hurt two days ago. Two days ago when they punches first started, she felt pain. Now, she just ached and laughed and waited. As she tried to catch her breath she coughed even more as her ribs rocked and stabbed her breathing.

"Get her up," the voice started again.

Before she could move, Gail felt arms under her own and she was lifted up onto her feet as best they could hold her.

"Hi," Gail grinned, mouth full of penny-like taste. She could only open her right eye enough to see.

"Where is she?" her faux father asked again, leaning close. Gail shrugged.

"I'm me." She was nonsensical and out of it, curtesy of what felt like a jiggly brain in her head and the inability to concentrate for very long. Exhaustion could do that. Trauma only exacerbated the situation.

"You were afraid yesterday," he observed. "I liked that better on you, bréagadóir."

"I've had worse," Gail coughed and lifted her head slightly. She was glad she was being held up, because she couldn't do it alone, and the stretching was resetting her ribs which felt as if they were floating about, untethered in her body, bumping into things angrily.

"Worse?" he laughed. "We haven't even started yet."

"This is a vacation," Gail spit. "I don't know where your daughter is. I don't even know her. But she is long gone from your life. And I just don't care anymore."

"Why are you here?" he asked quietly, calmly.

"You know, I got kidnapped once," Gail tried again. "This nutjob. Strapped me to a table. Kept me blindfolded. Killed a cop. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Including right now."

"Shut her up. Let's try her friend," O'Dowd tried again.

"And then I met this girl and it was still the worst thing that ever happened to me. But I'm not going to die because of her," Gail tried, falling down again. "And that's kind of great. I'm a cat and she puts up with so much but she's weird and she's beautiful and I can't die. You can't kill me!" Her words were garbled and no where near as full of conviction as she thought in her head. But they didn't have to be. All that mattered were how they sounded like a lion's roar in her head.

Another round of kicks and punches left Gail spitting and sputtering in a corner. She couldn't say anything else if she wanted, but she felt a smile on her lips because for some odd reason she couldn't remember having the last time she was in this similar situation, she knew she would be alright.

* * *

"Which way?" Holly trotted, scatter-brained into the waiting room of the hospital. There was a milling of a few cops, but still a relative calm pervaded. Andy and Traci and the boys stood from their positions. Half were in uniform, the others drove as quickly as they could to the hospital when they heard about what happened at the compound and Gail's undercover work.

"We haven't heard anything..." Traci held Holly's shoulders and made her still as Oliver trotted up behind asking the same questions.

"Where is she, Traci?" Holly asked again.

"She's okay, she's okay," the detective promised. "They're working her up right now. She's going to be alright, that's all we know. It was pretty bad."

"What happened? Were you there?" Holly swallowed roughly and couldn't figure out what to ask first. She wanted answers to every question and she wanted to see her right this moment.

"She was compromised. They lost track of her two days -"

"Two days!?" Holly yelped. There was too much information in the vagueness. There was too much left unsaid and for a moment she was alright with it because she didn't know what was waiting for her. She was struck in a paradox and paralyzed by it.

"Steve's been with her since they found them," Traci promised. "He -"

"Holly?" Elaine Peck appeared in the hall behind the desk.

"Elaine," Holly sighed as Traci's arms dropped. "Where is she?"

"It's okay. She's okay," the mother hugged Holly quickly. It was short and rough but enough. "I have to go back to the office. She's upstairs. I have to go."

The mother was gone in a flurry. It left Holly in a tailspin at the precipice of the door. Elaine wasn't the most expressive person on the planet. The Pecks, actually, were less than expressive at all. But for Elaine to leave meant that Gail would live. It also meant that someone was about to get hell because her daughter was compromised and put in the hospital and lost for two days. It didn't surprise Holly at all though, that Elaine Peck left her daughter in the hospital. When she said that she had to go, she meant it literally. She meant that she could not be there one more moment and see this for even another instant. Strong and fierce, Elaine Peck had the same fears as her daughter, and loss and ineffectively were chief among them.

"Hey, Hol," Steve appeared a few seconds later as Holly found herself trying to find her bearings after the Elaine Peck high speed exit.

The oldest Peck kissed Holly's cheek quickly. He was tired and worn. It showed in his face, it hung in his eyes. Dried blood smudged over his eyebrow. His suit jacket was gone to places forgotten, and his sleeves, though rolled, were wet with sweat and other fluids of indiscernible origin.

"Where is she, Steve?" Holly asked once more. It was all she could form. She had to see Gail. She had to see her right that moment or else she would explode. Everything was orbiting around Holly, but she never felt closer to her goal. The world was whirring violently and quickly and yet she wasn't moving.

"She's in ICU," he shook his head and inhaled with a heavy chest. "She's going to be okay, Hol. She's in bad shape, but she's going to be alright."

"She's in ICU," Holly shook her head and repeated. "That's not fine. That's not alright. I have to see her."

"She's out of it," he tried. The brother wanted so much to protect Holly from what she was inevitably going to see. He couldn't decide if her imagination could be as bad as the reality. If he told her that she was going to live, it would help. Until she saw Gail, and then would call him a liar. He thought he was a liar when he first saw her, crumpled in that closet. But she was breathing. Though she never woke up in the ambulance, she came to for a moment in the hospital and Steve tried to make it better, but she was out of it and wailing and fighting and he didn't know... he couldn't... he was powerless.

"Where is she?" Holly said again. Looking over her shoulder at the people in the waiting room eagerly listening for more information, Steve nodded and focused on Holly again.

"She's going to be alright," he promised. "Room 415." Holly took a few steps past Steve as Traci approached the tired and sad brother. She stopped quickly and turned to hug him tightly before making her way to Gail's room. Holly was worried and dying to see the youngest Peck, but he saw his sister get beaten within a few inches of her life and she appreciated that he was trying to protect them both.

"She'll be okay," Holly promised him even though she had no basis for it. "Thank you, Steve. Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder.

"Don't let her scare you away," he whispered as she pulled away and gave him a quick smile and nod.

The hall was long and suddenly quieter than the waiting room and lobby where Holly left the others. She felt like an outsider, but no nurses tried to stop her. Perhaps it was the quickness or assuredness with her gait. Perhaps it was the worried and frantic look in her eyes that illicited fear from passerbys. It didn't matter. Holly was on a mission and she couldn't move quick enough.

"Holly?" another voice called her name down the corridor.

"Yes?" she tried, turning and making her way towards the owner.

Tall and weary, he looked daunting still, even with the hospital gown and IV stand he used as a crutch. His red hair was a fire on his pale skin, and his eyes and bandages told Holly that he had seen what Gail had seen as well.

"She's in here," he pointed, grunting and grabbing his side with a casted arm. "Gail's here. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry," he shook his head and looked at Holly with wide, fearful eyes.

Holly didn't know what to say to him. She didn't have the time to try to figure it out. She wasted enough. It'd been nearly fifteen minutes since Oliver showed up in her lab, and now she was here, finally and it all felt like eternities had passed and she still hadn't seen her girlfriend.

With barely a passing glance, Holly nodded to the strange sentinel at the door and turned to look through the glass door at the activity inside.

She felt her stomach drop to the basement. Straight through her shoes and straight into hell. The sight was terrifying. Nurses surrounded the gurney and were busy dressing a swollen, bruised, and bleeding Gail's body. Holly saw her. She looked right at her, unconscious on the table and connected to the machines and with hurried and worried hands still doing x-rays and mending and suturing and fretting over the skin with needles and gloves.

There she was. Holly saw her. But suddenly the Earth stopped, and the commotion of the past seventeen minutes froze and dropped to the ground in a silent clamour. It was like watching an old med school video. There was no sound that reached her ears. Just movement on the screen. Precise and articulate and smart movements of well-trained hands trying to alter a body back to its normal state. Holly swallowed and blinked and did little else.

"You can't be here," a nurse opened the door. "Family only. We sent the brother to address the friends outside."

"That's my girlfriend," Holly whispered, still unable to move her eyes form the scene. She was distant and removed and startled into oblivion at the sight of Gail, so destroyed and annihilated upon the bed. She was powerless and it killed her.

"That's my partner," the man beside her stated as well.

The nurse looked at the two bewildered people outside the door. She wasn't going to get rid of them. Cops had their own rules when they came in.

"We're doing our best," was all she offered. "She'll live."

Neither pillar moved or blinked at her words. Both might have not believed her at all. But the nurse closed the door again and returned to her work on the fallen hero. Pulling on her gloves again, she returned to the lacerations on the scalp and temple.

"Your girlfriend is here," the nurse leaned down slightly and whispered to the sedated officer. "It's going to be alright. She looks like a keeper."

Holly pushed her hand against the glass when she was able to move. She felt like a child at the zoo wondering why tigers were unpettable.

"I tried to get her out," the voice beside her said to itself. James gripped the IV pole and clenched his teeth as a wave of nausea passed through his chest. "I couldn't warn her. They knew. They had someone inside. I tried..."

"She'll be alright," Holly promised, not even moving her head to look at him. "It's not your fault."

"I should have done... anything... " he shook his head.

"She'll be alright," Holly promised again.

In the quiet while the nurses and doctors finished taking stock of the beatings and damages of such, Holly and James stood, unwavering and unblinking, waiting for the official alright. In the silence, neither looked at the other, neither moved save to breathe. It was enough to be beside each other. Holly felt his cast in her hand a few minutes later as the machines beeped angrily and the activity reached a fevered pace. Gail's chest was beat and electrocuted and tubes stuck in her throat. Holly gripped the plaster as hard as she could and refused to breathe until the activity subsided and Gail was awake and safe in her own bed.

"No," Holly whispered, lips heavy and dry. "Come on, Gail. Be stubborn."

* * *

It was the pain in her entire abdomen that woke her. It was the following round of grunts and groans and indignant breaths that woke her girlfriend from the soft daze of semi-napping against the railing of the hospital bed. The quiet murmur of the handful of people outside who remained despite Holly's insistence that it wasn't necessary combined with the beeping and whirr of machines behind the bed in a lullaby that pushed Holly towards uneasy sleep.

But two days of uneasy sleeping and vigilant refusal to leave her side made Holly anxious for this moment. She knew it was coming. She knew she would wake up when they took out the tubes and Gail was stronger than ever. She wasn't going to be anywhere else. She wasn't going to miss this moment.

"Hey, hey, shhh, Gail, stop moving," Holly rushed to say as her girlfriend squirmed and fought against the aches gripping her body.

"Why does it all hurt?" Gail asked through gritting teeth and squinching face. Her mouth was dry and stuck all over. She hated it. She fought it.

"It's okay," Holly tried. "You're okay. You're safe now. You're at the hospital."

"James?" Gail tried to open her eyes but felt incapable as she hissed against another breath.

"He's fine, love," Holly promised. "Better than you."

"Holly?" Gail asked, forcing her eye open. It searched the ceiling warily, not recognizing anything either.

"I'm here, babe," Holly stood and gently ran her hand along Gail's bruised and discoloured jaw. "It's okay. Go back to sleep."

"I didn't die, for you," Gail grinned again, despite the feeling of her jaw being hit by a sledgehammer every second. She closed her eyes and moved her head only slightly to face her girlfriend, or at least where she thought she might be.

"Thanks for that," Holly returned. Gail leaned into her warm hands. A small smile stuck on her lips. Holly pushed her hair from her forehead softly.

"They punched me. A lot. That's all I remember last. I didn't die, did I?" She was worried and forgetful.

"No, Gail, you're alive," Holly whispered to her worried girlfriend.

"I told them they couldn't kill me. I had to get home." There was some bravado and fear there at the same time.

"You're home," Holly promised. "I'm going to take you home and you'll heal just fine."

"Yeah. I like that," Gail gritted again as Holly searched for the pain killer release button.

"You still look beautiful," Holly whispered. "For a redhead." Featherlight and barely there, Holly kissed the bandage around Gail's forehead and closed her eyes as she rested her own forehead there for a moment. She heard Gail's breathing and that was enough for right now. Holly found herself feeling oddly relieved that Gail had only been beaten within inches of death. For some reason it couldn't sink in how much damage there was. It wasn't like a stabbing or gunshot. Those are traumatic and easily discernible how deadly they are. But for this... For this it just felt abstract. Like death wasn't as close despite the purple and cuts and blood and bruises.

"Keep it in your pants, Stewart. I'm injured," Gail grinned to herself, enjoying her joke and morphine simultaneously, one influencing the other quite a bit.

"God, I missed you," Holly sighed. She sniffled and felt tears mingling with her smiling cheeks. Her hand traced Gail's cheek, held her neck, touched every inch of skin it could. She hadn't cried since she got to the hospital nearly sixty hours ago. She had been stoic and prepared and tough.

"I know," Gail grinned and turned her head to fit in Holly's hand. She was drowsy again and smiling with the drug-induced calm that settled in her bones, booting the ache and hurt after a few seconds. "That's why I didn't die. Like Hans Solo in carbonite. You're kinda like Leia."

"You're such a nerd," Holly closed her eyes and smiled. Her cheeks were sticky with tears still but she didn't care. When Gail fell asleep she would break down again. She could feel it. The tired and the worry and the joy overflowing in her veins.

"No you," Gail chuckled and coughed before settling again.

"I love you, you idiot," Holly whispered, stroking Gail's brow, below the bandage.

"I know," Gail chuckled. "Episode V."

Holly kissed her forehead again. She leaned against the railing and held her hand on Gail's chest, feeling the steady beating of her heart as it levelled and she drifted off to a very druggy sleep. She closed her eyes and memorized the rhythm, grateful to have it so close again.

For the first time she realized how far away it was, how close it was to ceasing to exist. Holly didn't know how to do it anymore, but it was too late for such thoughts. She was in love with this woman. She dropped her head and let out a muffled sob that rattled her rib cage thought her lungs indignant fingers. She had held it at bay until Gail woke up. It was muted with worry and concern, but now, relief pried open the cap and let it all come washing over her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."


	3. Chapter 3

_I will never forget your healing hands, my love._  
_You gave me daylight; you gave me sunlight._

The television was annoying and damn near close to torture. If Gail had it her way, she would be allowed to throw it right off of the balcony and into the street as a semi rolled through and smashed it into unrecognizable pieces. That was what she imagined as she stared, once again, at the monotonous flashing of colours that made up shows that made her want to commit violent acts.

With a sigh she lulled her head against the back of the couch and winced with her achy muscles. Every movement came with some sort of pain or pull or tweak or throbbing that made her move slower and take a second to recapture her breath. It was driving her mad, as well. She couldn't throw the television out the window. The cast on her arm would make it damn near unwieldy and the broken ribs that were mending would probably re-crack under the strain. She wasn't sure why she thought getting out of the hospital would be an improvement since she basically did the same things: television, eat, pretend to read, pain-killers, sleep, eat, television. It was mind-numbing, to try and heal.

And then Holly walked through the living room and Gail remembered why it was better. Not much better, overall, but still, better nonetheless. She was back in her townhouse with Holly, the place they argued and fought and debated over for weeks before finally signing the lease. It was filled with their furniture and Gail sat on her couch, angrily sulking in front of her television while her girlfriend fretted and worried over her appearance in the bedroom, murmuring to herself on trips across the living room. It was all hers, and that made all of the difference.

"I can reschedule," Holly said again as she leaned her head to the side and worked on putting in an earring. Gail lifted her head and shook it wildly to the sides.

"So your friends can hate me more than they already do? Don't think so," Gail pursed her lips and continued to disagree. Holly narrowed her eyes and got that sympathetic frown that would try to dispel Gail's paranoia. Four years of the occasional dinner with Holly's friends and the small digs that Gail wasn't allowed to rebut continually validated her paranoia, or so Gail thought. It wasn't even paranoia. They didn't like her. But the feeling was mostly mutual, so she didn't lose sleep over it. She put on a brave face for Holly because that was what she was supposed to do. When someone you love has bitchy friends, you stomach them every so often. Because reward sex.

"Gail, you were in the hospital for a week, and you've got a few broken bones, bruises, swelling, discolouration..." Holly listed, surveying her girlfriend's still discoloured face. It was better and she had been thankful that surgery wasn't necessary, but she still wasn't back to fighting shape. Holly was nervous to leave her alone. She was not eager to be away from her at all.

The past three weeks had been trying, to say the least. Between Gail being released and the interviews and the visitors and just trying to keep it all straight, Holly felt like she was going to drop one of the many balls she was juggling at any moment, and when one went down, they all would follow. That couldn't happen, though, because Gail was one of those balls, and she was important and mattered and Holly would do anything for her. She did do anything. Because she got to have her in bed every night, safe and alive. That was it. That was the point of it all, and they both realized it the first night together again. Wounded and bruised and medicated as she was, Gail smelled Holly's freshly showered skin and the sheets and the wind from the open window and she was very glad that she was not dead to miss a moment like this.

"I thought you liked the red," Gail grinned. Holly rolled her eyes. "You look real pretty."

"Ugh," Holly humphed, straightening her dress anxiously after attaching one earring. "I'm not sure I like this, and I can't find the one I wanted originally."

"You look..." Gail appreciatively looked her girlfriend up and down, enjoying her legs for days and her hips for hours and her curves and twists and everything. "Yeah," she nodded and blushed at her unabashed perving. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," Holly looked up finally, happy to earn such a stamp of approval from the one person who mattered.

"Go have fun. I've kept you locked up and busy."

"You haven't..."

"Kind of," Gail shook her head as Holly finished her other ear. "I haven't been cleared to work, I've been riding these painkillers, and unable to move. And you've put up with it. You might not have even noticed, but I'm kind of unbearable when I'm hurting. I've never seen it, but I guess I can be difficult."

"You're kind of adorable when you're drugged," Holly decided, taking a few steps closer to her frustrated girlfriend. She knew that being called adorable was a peeve and would rile Gail. But it was truth. "You're so sweet and cooperative and silly. Such a nice change of pace."

"Okay, alright," Gail held up her hands in protest. "Enough with the flattery."

"I like having you home," Holly grinned, taking a seat on the coffee table across from Gail and beside her propped up legs. If her ribs hadn't been healing, Holly would have settled atop the soon-to-be-once-again blonde. She would have slid her hands up the back of her neck and into her hair and held her there so she was forced to keep eye contact and not be bashful and defensive. But she couldn't just yet. As soon as the casts were off and prescriptions ran out, Gail was in for it. That's all Holly knew.

"Go be a maid of honour," Gail told her. "I'll be here waiting."

"You just want me buzzed and unable to fend off your advances." The thought had occurred to Gail. Holly was tame with the injuries presenting themselves at the worst times. But perhaps inebriated Holly wouldn't care. Gail didn't care.

"Yeah, duh."

"I made you a sandwich and left it in the fridge if you get hungry," Holly leaned forward, cocky and emboldened. "Easy on the painkillers, okay?"

"Sure thing, doc," Gail smiled. She felt Holly's fingers on her jaw.

"I'll be home around eleven."

"Midnight."

"Eleven."

"One."

"Midnight," Holly relented.

"No sneaking out early either. I'll be fine. Go have fun," Gail tried to force her.

"We could have fun here," Holly offered, lips inching closer to Gail's. The wounded cop pushed through the nagging ache of her side and moved forward slightly, hoping to close the distance.

"More television and trying to get me to watch educational programming? No way," Gail pulled back at the last second. "I've learned too much already."

"Better than _Star Wars_ for the nine hundredth time," Holly rolled her eyes and leaned forward anyway, despite her girlfriend's obstinate observation. "I know far too much about Jedi law."

"It's the Jedi Code," Gail corrected. "Remember when we saw-"

"Shut it, Peck." Holly kissed her to stop the explanation that would drone on and on and on.

Gail sighed into the kiss and gave up arguing. There was no point. Not when Holly kissed like Vicodin and smelled like vanilla. Holly felt the plaster cast on her cheek but kissed Gail through it. They both needed normalcy. They both needed the world to continue and start again and for their life together to move past the accident and undercover. Holly needed it like air, to feel like things were unbreakable.

"You do know that it's Code, right?" Gail asked as Holly pulled away. "There's no governing body..." Another kiss stopped the dissertation again.

"How did I get to be the nerd in this relationship?" Holly sighed and shook her head as she met two very confused and beautiful blue eyes.

"Glasses, lunchbox, doctor, journal articles," Gail counted off the list on her fingers sticking out of her cast.

"Okay, wow," Holly stood up.

"Ability to calculate tip to the cent, encyclopedic knowledge of basically everything, dead bodies," Gail continued.

"I get it."

"Lab coat, science, long words, glasses."

"Yeah, you're feeling better. I'm going now," Holly left Gail continuing the list on the couch. Every now and then an item on the list made her laugh as she pulled on her coat.

"You own a lot of books, and you reference back to books and not their movies." Once again Gail leaned her head on the couch and watched her girlfriend getting ready. "You fell for the cool kid. That's classic nerd m.o."

"If I'm a nerd, you're a nerd," Holly decided, leaning behind the couch. She kissed Gail's forehead. She ran her hands along her chest, soft and afraid to hurt her. She cupped her jaw and held her cheeks and kissed her nose.

"Yeah," Gail agreed with the most genuine of smiles. "Have fun tonight, okay?"

"You too," Holly whispered, nearly kneeling to get closer.

"I've got a big pile of papers that need reviewed and my signature," Gail promised. "Fun will happen when you sneak into bed later."

"You sure you won't come?" Holly tried another method.

"I would.. but you know... my rib, right, here, ouch, yeah," Gail leaned and shook her head. "I just couldn't move. And my wrist has been throbbing all evening." Holly smiled at the performance.

"I love you," she whispered and kissed Gail's temple. The officer swallowed and smiled at the action. Holly wanted to whisper a lot of things right now. She closed her eyes and bit her tongue. She couldn't say them, no matter how much she knew she had to shortly. Not now. Now she was grateful and happy and this was normal. "I will see you later."

"Be safe," Gail offered, earning one final kiss from her girlfriend.

Maybe this was the new normal, Holly decided as she closed the door with a small wave, returned by a casted wrist on the couch. Gail was getting back to her old self. She wouldn't talk about what happened, but she acted more and more like the person who left four months ago. As she checked the keys and made her way to the parking garage, Holly fought the urge to go back, slip out of this dress and fall asleep with her head in Gail's lap while they bickered about what to watch. Things had to go back to normal though, come hell or high water, and if Gail could get back to it, Holly was determined to follow suit.

* * *

"I've been looking for you everywhere." Holly stood up quickly from her leaning position against the brick of the bar. She felt the wooziness of the wine seeping into her bones as they tried to look presentable.

"Just needed some air," Holly offered, swallowing and feeling the cool autumn evening patting at her flushed cheeks.

"It's time to open the presents," Sophie said, swinging her leg slowly as she took a place next to Holly on the wall outside the ritzy bar they'd picked as the place for the elegant cocktail shower.

"I'll be just a few seconds," Holly smiled and resumed her position.

"I could use some air," her friend decided, crossing her legs and arms against the cold. Holly felt the brick beneath her fingers and just nodded, unable to fight or insist on having fun.

She just needed a minute to catch up with herself and the glasses of wine that had been passed to her. She just needed a few minutes for everything to slow down and for her head to stop twirling around that girl in her house waiting for her to get home. She just needed it all to slow down. Just for a minute.

But it didn't. It couldn't. It never can. Holly found herself leaning against the wall and watching people passing on the sidewalk in their own pursuits of their own lives, unaware of her at all. It was her best friend's bridal shower, filled to the gills with family and friends that she was supposed to be entertaining and she just couldn't. She needed a minute away from the smiling and laughing and fakeness that prevailed in the manufactured perfection of the party.

"How are you?" Sophie asked, breaking the spell of the quiet that could only be found in busy city streets.

Holly closed her eyes and lifted her chin towards the sky that was nearly blocked by the skyline. She fixed her smile and shook her head.

"I am great and we should get back," she tried, fully ready to re-engage with her duties as maid of honour and thrower of this party. But instead her tiny best friend didn't move at all and gave her a disbelieving stare. Holly retreated to her leaning position again. "You can't have a bridal shower without the bride," she tried.

"Come on, Hol. You know I don't care about that. It's just for Tom's family. And you are not great and we are not going back in there until you are. I couldn't."

Small and mighty, Sophie Butler was not one to be ignored or overlooked. The oldest of a brood that consisted of six brothers, she chiseled out a space for Holly in her family to the extent that her mother bought bunk beds when she was eight to accommodate the two girls. When her mind was on something, she was a relentless as a hound on a scent and with blood on her muzzle. That could have been why she became a lawyer. Perhaps it was even Holly who pushed her towards that career by simply existing and needing to be defended throughout her life, first from her own family and then from the rest of the world. It gave Sophie a thirst for justice and a clear idea of right and wrong from a very young age, as well as a duty to stick up for those who were metaphorically smaller than her. The entire entity that was Holly's best friend was an important person in Holly's narrative, and that key fact could never be overlooked, by either girl.

But, just as Holly influenced Sophie's future from the moment they met, so too, did Sophie change Holly's life. Taking her in like a puppy at the tender age of three, Holly couldn't remember a day when she hadn't spoken to the girl. She couldn't remember a night that she wasn't invited to stay or to dinner or to any family vacation that the Butler's went on. Holly found her own voice and spine from her friend, both in learning her ways and in asserting herself against her occasionally. Regardless of how, Holly knew that it was her friend that taught her how to be alive and live and be who she was. While Sophie was a relentless defender, Holly learned who she was in the freedom provided by her best friend's protective tutelage. Night and day in their personalities, though bound by an unbreakable feeling of happenstance or perhaps simply fate, it didn't matter - it simply worked.

"How's Gail?" The best friend tried, chancing a look at Holly after a few moments of quiet and shivering.

"Actually, really good," Holly nodded. "She seems happy and healing and I kind of keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? It has to be coming. She can't just be gone for months and then get beaten within an inch of her life for two days and make jokes about wookies and reality television." Holly realized she was worrying aloud and she hadn't meant to be as explicit. But it nagged at her every second, the waiting.

There were the occasional murmuring in her sleep, the shaking and tossing that felt like nightmares and left Gail gasping and fists rooted in the sheets against the broken and healing fractures insistence on not holding so tightly. Holly weathered them quietly, never brining it up during waking hours because she wasn't sure how, exactly. Which was a running thread in her life at the moment. She almost felt ungrateful, to wait for Gail to break when she had her home now, and alive and seemingly well. Perhaps she was creating a self-fulfilling prophecy for her girlfriend. Maybe it would never come.

"I don't know," Sophie began, choosing her words carefully. If there had been one sore spot in their entire friendship, it had been Holly's relationship with Gail, and a few weeks of a chilly best friend had made her wary of bringing up the blonde. But Sophie had grown to like Gail, and more importantly, like the person Holly became because of the cop. Though their first few meetings had been rough and Sophie was forced to adjust her method and criteria for evaluating her, she eventually came around. "Gail is tough. If there's anyone who could do that, I think it's her."

"Yeah," Holly nodded. "I know, it's silly. I just... I don't know." She kicked her feet. "Sometimes I just lay there at night, and all I can see is that hospital bed and her coding and I was so close to losing her and I never knew."

"But you didn't, and that's all you need to know."

"She's been through a lot," Holly sighed. The list only seemed to grow in her line of work.

"I think that's what makes you guys work," Sophie shrugged. "If you can grow up to be you, and she can somehow survive to be her, and you both can be together and be happy, and I mean truly happy. Like, you kind of make me disgusted at how easy and so... so... free, you know? in a way that you are both at ease and both yourselves above all else, unburdened by the past or the future or any of it. You just exist. Together. I don't know. There has to be something there, to it all."

It was true, in a way. Holly and Gail gave Sophie hope and a renewed belief in love as probably the most magical and powerful force on the planet, as corny and Hallmark-y as it sounded. When she looked at her best friend, eyebrows peaked and furrowed, deep in thought and far away, Sophie remembered the bruised little kid in first grade who told her not to tell.

"I don't know. I've had a few glasses of wine and I'm getting married and _Sabrina_ was on earlier and Hepburn just... you know I'm a sucker for those old movies."

Holly shook her head and smiled to herself at her normally gruff best friend's defensive strategy to hide her emotional observations.

"Did you know she was kidnapped on her first undercover?" Holly asked, watching her best friend's face contort slightly. "Serial killer. He killed her friend. Drugged her and kept her strapped to a chair in the basement. She's only mentioned it vaguely. She's never talked to me about it. But the woman I met was barely functioning after it. I'm afraid of it going back."

"There's a big difference though," Sophie realized aloud. "You weren't there last time."

"You're overestimating me."

"Or I'm wrong, and she's going to be batshit crazy someday. It doesn't matter. You're here this time either way."

"What happens when I tell her... about it."

"You haven't?!" Sophie exclaimed despite herself, eyeing Holly with confusion and surprise. "I mean," she looked around at the few glances she received on the sidewalk. "You haven't?!" she whispered and hissed, leaning closer to Holly.

"When was I supposed to?" Holly defended herself. "When she was in the hospital? When she got home and was drugged for pain? There hasn't a ridiculous amount of openings."

"I know you're worried about her and all, but you're definitely projecting your fears onto her," Sophie shook her head and looked back at the sidewalk. "You're not going to die, Holly. I already told you you're not allowed."

"I can't tell her," Holly breathed out. She picked at the mortar of the bricks with her worried fingers.

"You didn't go to your appointment, did you?" Sophie stood, no longer needing the support of the wall. "Seriously, Holly? Seriously? You've got to be kidding me."

"I don't know how to tell her and I can't do it without her and I don't want to tell her and make it true!" Holly felt her shoulders constricting as they rose and the words tumbled out of her mouth.

"I love you, but you're an idiot," Sophie said after staring at Holly for a full minute of silence. "You tell her and you go to your appointments." It was an order and Holly knew it. She deserved it. "Think about what you're doing to her. Think about what you're doing to me. How could you?" That stung. Holly swallowed and shook her head slightly. "You have cancer, Holly. Right now. Not telling Gail won't change it."

"I just want things to be normal for just a little while longer. I want to go to my best friend's wedding and have dinner with my girlfriend without her black eyes and broken body. And I want her to be alright. And I want to go to work and see my nieces and build snowmen and have one day and be who I was four months ago."

"Should I be worried about you?" Sophie asked, the two stuck in a fierce battle of staring and breathing. Holly thought about it genuinely and already felt different and lighter and so she shook her head.

"I'm alright. I will be alright."

"Tonight," Sophie said, hugging Holly as tight as she could. She leaned her cheek on Holly's shoulder and stared, dead-eyed into nothing. "You tell her tonight."

"Okay," Holly agreed, unsure of her ability to keep her promise this time.

* * *

First she tried the news, but that lasted just a few minutes before a picture of O'Dowd showed up. If it hadn't been for the ridiculous commercials that felt like someone was scraping the inside of her skull, she probably would have watched more Scooby Doo. It was new and not like the old ones she loved as a kid, but it did the job. Until those damn commercials about goop and screaming kids and water guns. By the time she found a marathon of old episodes of Mad Men, Gail was ready to actually pick up a book and read, but thankfully was averted and left it stationed there. _  
_

It was after about an hour of that when she ate her dinner and debated texting Holly to see how it was going. But she avoided her phone and tried not to make Holly worry any more than normal.

"I'm coming," Gail complained as she jumped at a knock at the door just as she reached for her phone. She hopped up, more eagerly than her body should have allowed and retracted her hand from the phone, thankful to have a distraction, whatever it could be. "What are you doing here?"

"That's not quite the welcome I was expecting," Steve shook his head to this side as he followed his sister into her place. "Wall, actually it kind of is..." he grinned and closed the door as Gail walked inside, not caring if he followed.

"Did Holly call you to babysit me?" Gail snarked, sitting on the couch in a huff. Despite her boredom, she was almost enjoying the isolation. The constant influx of visitors drove her crazy. Well-wishers and friends never left her alone. She just wanted things to get back to normal, which consisted of a simple truce with the people in her life of quiet indifference and only being around them in very small doses across very long periods of time.

"She may have mentioned that she was going to be busy tonight and encouraged some brother-sister time," Steve shrugged and slowly perused his sister's place as he strolled towards the couch.

"I was going to take a bath and read in bed," Gail lied.

"Didn't mean to interrupt your busy night," Steve plopped down beside her, ignoring her attempt to get him out sooner.

"Don't you have something to do with your wife?"

"Nah, I got the ring on her and now it's smooth sailing. Dex has Leo and Traci is taking some class."

"So you're here to bug me as a last resort?" Gail winced as she adjusted slowly. She wanted to reach for her drink, but didn't have the dedication for the task.

"I wanted to see how you're doing. See if you are any closer to coming back." Though he had his feet already propped up on the coffee table, mimicking his little sister, Steve put them down to lean forward and pick up the second half of Gail's untouched sandwich. "You done with this?" he asked, lifting it as an offering before Gail shook her head and he took a bite. "How's the paperwork going? Your deposition in order?"

"I was reviewing it earlier," Gail nudged her head towards the stack of folders. "The team prepped me pretty good."

"And what did the doctors say?" Steve asked after another big bite.

"Cast will be off in about three weeks, and everything else in about the same. But you knew that already, right?" she lulled her head to the side and held it up with her knuckles, aloof and calm.

"It's my job to know these things," her brother shrugged, food creating a bubble in his cheek. "What about the shrink?"

"She said something about having mommy issues. I don't know. I think she's a quack."

"You haven't gone."

"No."

Gail took a deep breath and ran her hand through her hand. It had grown longer and more unruly, perhaps bold with the fake red that still stained it. She was supposed to keep it until the trial, make it more believable, but she wasn't sure she could handle it any longer. She avoided looking at Steve and instead played with invisible dead ends inevitably there.

Steve chewed and cleared his throat before tossing the crust back onto the plate. Meticulously he cleaned the few crumbs from his pants and hands, careful with his words and treading lightly on this moment.

"You can't go back, not even to 15, unless you're cleared by psyche," he tried. Both siblings looked straight ahead at the images on the television, unable to focus on it exactly, but grateful it was there. "I think it'd be good, for you."

"I'm better than ever," Gail asserted, hoping that would end the conversation.

"You talked to a complete stranger about things. I heard the tapes. You were close with your target. You were real."

"I was believable," Gail corrected quickly.

"Just go get cleared," Steve relented. It was hopeless, but he could get her to the shrink on technicalities, and that was all that mattered. His sister's mental state seemed remarkably intact, yet that felt false, like the calm before the storm. The tiny rip in a knee before the entire leg is bloodied and the jeans are ruined. But he did acknowledge that his sister was unrecognizable when compared to the woman he found rescued five years ago. And maybe she was fine.

"How's James doing?" Gail changed the subject deftly.

"Who?"

"Connolly."

"Ah, your partner," Steve realized, stretching out and making himself comfortable again. "He's doing alright. We've been milking him for all he's got with this ring. He's good. He's really good. He'll do great on the squad." Gail nodded to herself, somewhat relieved. She never got a word about work out of her partner when he visited. He was mum and worried and trying to get her back to work quickly because of unneeded guilt. "He refuses any other partners. He's holding your spot."

"It's that Catholic guilt. He's a sucker," Gail shrugged.

They were quiet as Gail flipped through the channels with the volume not invading their conversation, or at least lack of for the moment. Steve somehow grabbed them both drinks and offered Gail an orange bottle of ibuprofen when she pointed it out on the counter. Never touchy-feely relatives, the brother and sister existed much like strangers who knew everything about the other, caring in small ways and simply coping with being Pecks together as only prisoners are capable of commiserating with other prisoners, not so much of empathy, but sympathy as well.

"You are alright, aren't you?" Steve asked, sneaking only a quick peak at his sister. He watched her lower the remote and stare straight ahead, her body rigid and restrained at the invasion of his question.

Gail found her favourite old cartoon once again and settled down into the couch under the weight of the question again. She was sick of hearing it. Sick of feeling it in Holly's pitiful glances and waiting and supportive questions and suggestions. Sick of every visitor tiptoeing around her as if she was going to lose it because she got a few punches and pretended to be the daughter of a major drug dealer.

"I think so," she said honestly as she nestled deeper into the couch cushion. She still didn't look at Steve. "I am. It sucked, it happened, and now I'm here. I don't know why everyone keeps asking me that."

"You almost died and it was kind of a draining assignment," Steve shrugged, settling in as well.

"The only thing I want is for everyone to get over it. I did," Gail snapped. "I came home, to here. I have Holly and I feel very happy because I didn't die. Though if I had, I guess I wouldn't have cared either way." Steve snorted a laugh and adjusted the pillow under his arm. "I feel okay," Gail confessed. "I think I'll be alright."

They were quiet so that the words on the television would seem louder. Gail adjusted it after taking a few of the pills, hoping that by taking the weaker ones she would be awake when Holly returned and she would at least get a make out with heavy petting, preferably under the shirt, though at this rate, she wouldn't even push her luck. If she had been honest with Steve she would have told him that she actually felt very good and that she thought she had a good handle on everything until people kept asking her if she was about to break down. If she had been honest, she would have told him that things were going to get back to normal, and Holly was like the best dose of painkiller and reason to be alive all rolled into one wondrous package. If she had been honest, she would have told him that even nights like this, with random friends stopping by just to check on her, annoyed her to no end, but actually felt kind of nice and reminded her how to be alive. If she had been honest. But she had been truthful in her own way when she told him that she was alive and happy and she would be alright. Deep down Gail knew she was off and she was suppressing a few things. But she was uncharacteristically optimistic, which made her feel even better.

"It's the inn keeper," Steve pointed to the great dane on the screen.

"That's stupid," Gail snapped. "It's never the inn keeper. The bank manager."

"Milkshakes says its the inn keeper."

"Done."

Gail settled back into the couch and smiled as she watched cartoons with her brothers. Despite the ache in her back and relative circumstances of the past month, she felt very happy.

"They're going to split up," Steve shook his head.

"Shhhhhhh!"

* * *

There were naturally dirty pants on the floor. And a dirty plate on the counter, though it didn't bother her because it was devoid of the food it once held, which meant Gail ate. Holly, stumbling over the pants, decided to give up on cleaning the slight mess in the living room and instead locked the door as she bent down to pull off her heels.

Quietly, and in her stocking feet, Holly turned off the light that Gail left on downstairs and crept up the steps as the wine seemed to make her movements exaggerated and unwieldy.

Asleep and with one of her old copies of a med journal, Gail looked absolutely squeezable, and that was all it took. Holly was going to do just that. She decided it when she stopped in the door and saw her sleeping girlfriend. It was necessity. Creeping once again, she washed her face and stripped in the bathroom, finding one of Gail's old academy shirts in the drawer.

With the dexterity of a woman who had consumed half of the drinks Holly had, she managed to fish the journal her girlfriend was spooning, marked the page, and set it on the night stand.

In less than ten minutes of returning home, Holly had successfully made it upstairs, locked the door, rinsed her face, changed, and was now shutting the light off and crawling into the cold side of the bed beside her girlfriend. It had been a wildly successful night at the bridal shower, but the stealth she was exhibiting now, as well as the fact that she had the rest of the weekend off and potentially interruption free was the real victory.

"Mmmmm," Gail hummed as Holly shifted closer. "I fell asleep." Holly felt Gail's body stretch and strain and move towards her.

"Hi," she whispered, slipping her hand over Gail's stomach and resting it as lightly as she could over her ribs. She buried her nose in Gail's shoulder and inhaled the sleep and tired and soap of her skin.

"How did it go?" Gail asked, quiet and barely there against her girlfriend's forehead.

"Amazing," Was all Holly could think. Her mouth felt heavy with secret trying to worm its way out. She swallowed it and grew to seek Gail's warmth.

"Steve came," Gail said as she shifted her hips. She didn't even open her eyes the entire time this ballet of colliding bodies occurred in the middle of the bed, slow and deliberate in their touching and finding.

"Good."

"Things are good. I am happy," Gail insisted. "I love you." She yawned.

With a small movement, Holly kissed Gail's shoulder through the shirt. She kissed her neck and she kissed her jaw. Gail grinned and turned into the lips. She slipped her hand under Holly's shirt on her hips and traced the skin there with her uncasted hand. If she were being honest, she would have told Holly that she would never get sick of feeling every inch of her. But Gail was a liar in omissions and instead told truths in actions. If she were being honest, she would murmur sleepily about how this was the best way to fall asleep. But instead she just let Holly's body lull her into a circadian trance.

"I love you," Holly agreed as she listened to Gail's metronome-like lungs finding a steady, sleepy tempo.

Holly decided that she would tell her tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

_I need you_  
_To be afraid of nothing._

There was something beautiful about an early morning. While Gail wouldn't agree, Holly always tried to convince her, and she spent hours every so often trying to make Gail see the beauty of it. But the quiet outside of the world, hesitant to start, ducking its head in the pillows for a few more collective minutes. The sun rising despite its sleepy rotations. The way it looked, slipping light through the blinds against the wall in their bedroom.

Holly had always been a morning person. Gail was never a morning person. Those facts summarized them both quite accurately in the rest of their days.

But Holly couldn't help it. On mornings she was lucky enough to wake up in bed with Gail, which were growing more and more rare with her transfer and return to work, Holly would kiss her shoulder and slip her hands around her hips and be glad she woke up early, be glad to be a morning person.

"Mmmm," Gail hummed, still sleepy and tired and not even waking after only a few hours of sleep. She pulled up the sheets and stretched out as she yawned and fought off waking up. The different schedules were difficult, and as much as Gail wanted to roll over and be sweet, she was just exhausted. Holly didn't care though.

"I have to head in soon," she whispered, searching for skin under Gail's shirt and shorts. In the middle of the night she heard and felt her girlfriend slide into bed. She liked when she just threw on old clothes lying around. Occasionally they were Holly's and occasionally adorable. "Want to have breakfast?"

"It's too early," Gail whined.

Holly kissed her neck, and kissed her shoulder and kissed her collar as she rolled over.

"I miss you," she whispered in the dark against her girlfriend's sleepy lips as she shifted her weight over her.

"I miss you," Gail sighed and felt her body waking despite the tired in each muscle.

"Let's have a date night tonight," Holly asked, digging her hips deviously into her sleepy girlfriend.

"Mmhmm," Gail agreed, still nearly out of it and unfairly distracted with little to no defence against what was atop her.

Holly went to work waking her grumpy girlfriend. She pulled at her collar until the shirt was finally pulled up altogether, and then she set about making good use of the skin before her. And Gail, waking and suddenly an eager morning person, could do little else than hold on to what she could grasp, and kiss Holly as hard as she could and ask her to continue whatever was happening. Soon she didn't even complain against the cold of the morning and her skin bristled with this heat that flushed just below the surface of her skin and she didn't need sheets or anything else other than Holly's lips and hands, molding and making her.

And that was all she got. Holly moved slow and methodically, waking her with sneaky hands and subtle kisses. But it worked. And as the sun rose outside, Holly tried, once again, to turn Gail into a morning person through the only true method of persuasion that could work.

"You should go back to bed," Holly whispered as Gail's fingernails retracted from the flesh of her back and shoulder blade.

"Yeah," Gail sighed, heart still beating in her ears. She was thankful for the weight of her girlfriend as her lungs tried to stop making spazzes of themselves in her chest.

"Have a good day," Holly kissed at her neck softly, peppering each inch with soft kisses to put her back to sleep. It wouldn't work. Holly knew she woke her up and Gail was always someone who complained about being awake once she was awake and her inability to nap. "Be safe. I have to shower. Don't forget that I have a thing after work and I'll be home late."

"Yeah," Gail sighed again, helpless to hold her girlfriend with her weak and protesting arms.

With a satisfied grin, Holly retreated to the shower and counted down the seconds until Gail joined her.

* * *

"You can't ruin this day," Gail shook her head as she leaned back and crunched another chip.

"This mood is disturbing me," Dov shook his head and continued to write his paperwork. "I can't even deal with you right now."

"Today is perfect," Gail ignored him.

"Can't you at least finish these things up? Help a bit?"

"Can't. I'm basking."

"What could possible be so wonderful about this day?" her partner moved his hand angrily across the page as he filled out the reports from the day and their many adventures that all seemed to not put a damper on Gail's spirits. Not even the spitter with heroin on him, nor the hours of traffic guiding and honking cars could bring a drop of rain on her parade. "It's not even close to being over and it's been a terrible start."

"It's all about perspective," she informed him, recrossing her legs and reclining even further. "It's my last day at fifteen. I have a mother who may be mildly capable of saying I'm her daughter. I have a partner who is kind of great. You're not a terrible person that refuses to leave my life. And I have, seriously, the hottest, smartest, kindest girlfriend. Seriously, have you seen her?" With every addition to her list, Gail felt oddly weirded out by her ability to brag. She'd never done it before, and actually meant it. But a morning wake up sex and shower followed by donuts on the way to work made for a very wondrous morning in her book. "And I didn't die when someone tried to beat me like a piñata, so there's that."

"This new lease on life is getting annoying."

"Bask in the beauty of the world, my friend," Gail hummed, shaking her bag of snacks slightly and digging for the good bits.

"A man covered in his own urine spit in my face this morning," Dov turned to her and shook his head.

"Dov, I think a hundred urine-soaked men could spit in your face, and I would still be having this lovely, wonderful day." While Gail enjoyed that, Dov simply snorted and started typing.

Gail Peck had been many things to Dov, but optimistic and downright happy was relatively knew, and definitely not to this degree. She was the tempering of spirits, the pessimist of the day, the realist amidst optimists, and above all else, the criticizer of his every move with the most snarky and rude comments anyone could ever hear. But he needed that. Everyone needed that. Gail does not simply fit into someone's life, she instead notches a hole for herself and leaves it unfillable by anyone else.

"I'm sure your new partner will appreciate your devotion," Dov shook his head.

"Ha!" Gail actually threw her head back and laughed with a bark. "I got four broken ribs and a fractured orbital because of my other partner. He could get spit on by a junkie covered in a mountain of shit for me."

"What have you ever done for me?"

"Graced you with my friendship for years."

Before Dov could give her a violent retort, Gail sat up quickly, stood, and dropped her bag.

"Hi... Sophie," Gail said as she awkwardly wiped her hands on her hips. "Dov, this is Sophie," Gail gestured without looking at her partner. Instead she focused on Holly's friend in front of her. Dov could feel the tension radiate from Gail's body.

"Can I talk to you?" the smartly dressed woman didn't bother looking at Dov, but instead focused on Gail.

"Yeah, sure, yeah," Gail nodded.

For a few seconds Dov pretended to look at his paperwork. In the swirling barrage of daily activity at the station, it might be easy to lose track of someone, but Gail's icy white hair stuck out from the corner she retreated to with Holly's friend. Dov had heard about this friend, about how Gail had been devastated when the first impression hadn't gone well, about how hard it was for her to feel worthy of this friend's approval. It certainly wasn't a social call.

Dov didn't feel too invasive as he watched the two women talking. At least not at first. But then Gail shook her head and recoiled. And then Sophie tried to put her hand on Gail's shoulder and she recoiled even further.

"No!" Gail yelped and covered her mouth. "No," she whispered. Dov stood unknowingly as Gail stared at the girl. Gail leaned over and gripped her knees, cowering and shaking her head. Dov couldn't move. He wasn't even sure why he was standing except that he was positive that he had just witnessed something devastating. Gail pressed her hand to her chest and strained to breathe, eyes wide with disbelief.

Sophie hugged Gail against her will. Gail was bristling and barely able to breathe right there in the middle of the police station with everyone not even noticing. Gail pushed against her but Sophie held her tight and kept telling her something. Dov looked around, hoping he wasn't the only one to see it.

"I have to go," Gail left Sophie standing there without another word, breaking free from her arms. "I have to go, Dov."

"What's wrong?"

"I have to go," she repeated.

* * *

The waiting room was a terrible shade of mauve. Though, perhaps mauve was too strong of a word. It was grey with a hint of purple. Or maybe lilac with a dash of taupe. Yet no matter the exact colour, it was extremely boring, extremely troublesome, and extremely soothing despite Holly's insistence to be troubled by it.

With a sigh she sat back in her chair and avoided the walls entirely and instead focused on sending yet another text to her best friend in hopes of lighting a fire under her to get to the hospital on time. A set of steps came down the hall, and Holly looked up to see if her friend would appear from the soothing mauve walls. Instead it was just another patient. There was a slight nod to herself and she looked at her empty phone again.

The faces in the room were mauve as well, and that made Holly even more uncomfortable and restless and eager for her person to show up. Frail and broken, pale and weak, smiling and joking, the patients were once what Holly looked like, and now what she would be soon enough. It made her worried. It didn't help that she was the one that got sympathetic glances from the women with their head scarves, or the men with their IV bags. On the street, in the subway, at the mall, anyone would have said a small prayer and looked away quickly when any of the fellow waiting room inhabitants entered. But here, seemingly healthy and before the true travails of the treatment, those same patients knew what she was in for and knew what it would be like and so they looked at Holly as if she were a baby lamb coming to slaughter. She was jittery and skittish.

She wanted to know if they knew that it was her first appointment and she was getting the full results now. She wanted to know what it all would mean and if they had any advice, but it felt selfish to ask for all of that. Instead she just allowed herself to be on the receiving end of their sympathetic glances and told herself to steel up for what was to come in the future. If she could do anything, she would tell them that she didn't deserve anything of the sort because she was sitting here alone because her girlfriend still didn't know and it was getting harder and harder to tell her.

"Holly Stewart," the nurse called and made her jump up quickly. "How are you today, sweetheart?" the middle-aged nurse guided her into the offices behind the counter. Holly allowed herself one last look at the faces in the waiting room before following.

"I'm fine, how are you?"

"Wonderful," the nurse smiled. "Dr. Webb will be in to meet with you shorty," she opened a large office and guided her to the chairs.

"Okay," Holly nodded and awkwardly took a seat behind the large desk. With a small pause and quick look back, the nurse disappeared with much the same look that everyone else gave Holly in the waiting room.

She was never good at sitting across from authoritative people. She was never in trouble and never one to be bale to hold her own in the face of threatening and overwhelming authority. Today felt even worse. It was bad news, and Holly could feel it. She could feel it growing inside of her. The same as it did in her mom and the same as her grandmother and her aunts and the same as everyone else. She knew it was in her. And as much as she wanted to be optimistic like the doctor who did the biopsy told her, she knew deep down. Maybe that was why she couldn't tell Gail.

Antsy and uneasy, Holly picked at the arm of the chair and tried not to think of her mother. She tried not to think about anything. She definitely tried not to think about Gail and her lips and her earth-shattering eyes and the way they looked up at her in the morning. Most people couldn't appreciate how beautiful they were because they couldn't maintain eye contact with Gail's normal level of severity. But that might have made them so beautiful. Something about the sublime, Holly remembered, from a class in college she took to impress some girl. But Gail's eyes were astounding and warm and clear and they were honest.

"Dr. Stewart, how are you?" the door opened as Holly tried to stop thinking about what she could be losing.

"Please, don't call me that," Holly stood and shook the doctor's hand as he came around the desk. "In here, I can't even pretend to be a doctor."

"But you are one," he assured her, motioning for the seat. "Same amount of schooling. And you have a much better record than I do. As far as I can remember pathologists are some of the few doctor's who have never killed."

"Yet," Holly nodded, earning a smirk.

"Yet," the older doctor nodded as well with a genuine smile on his face. "Are we waiting on anyone?" He asked as he flipped open the folder. Holly shifted awkwardly.

"No, I um, we can... you can start..." she nodded quickly. "My friend, she's late. She's a lawyer. There's this case."

The doctor closed the folder and looked at her from across the deck.

"Dr. Stewart..."

"Holly," she corrected him again. "It's Holly. You're about to tell me what we're going to do to my body and a number assigned to my odds of being alive this time next year. I think you can call me Holly."

"Holly," he tried again.

"Because that's what's going to happen, right?" Holly continued. "I remember that happened with my mom. She withered away. She had a meeting like this, and she was healthy and looked like me. And then she didn't."

"I need you to stop talking," he leaned forward slightly. "Holly, this isn't something to be nervous about. This is about a choice, right now. I am ready to do this, if you are."

"I'm sorry, I don't usually babble like this," she shrugged, paused and thought about it for a moment. "Actually I do, at very weird moments. Usually life or death moments. Imminent moments. My girlfriend," Holly was moving her hands and realized it mid sentence, unable to stop. "My girlfriend, she just, she makes me stop when I do this." She licked her lips and took a deep breath and looked at the mauve colour of his walls. "It's just that this is starting, you know? This is it, officially, the plan. And I can't even..." she shook her head and trailed off, unable to articulate her inability to talk to Gail. That felt fitting.

"Normally I can put people at ease sooner," Dr. Webb looked at the poor woman across from him. "Holly, this is hard. You and me. You and me are going to talk and I am going to tell you how we're going to beat this. It's that simple."

"Okay," Holly nodded.

"Okay," he repeated with a smile.

Holly took a deep breath and tried to still her thoughts. It'd all been so abstract until this moment. The incredible rush of regret at not telling Gail weighed on her most of all. The folder opened again.

A knock at the door stopped the doctor as he opened his mouth again.

"I'm sorry, I was running late," a fully uniformed Gail stumbled into the office, hitting her leg on the chest of files and rattling the pictures there. "I'm sorry, shit." She spun around and froze when she was free of the door and hitting everything in her path.

"It's fine, it's fine," the doctor stood once again.

"Gail Peck," she stuck her hand out and shook his.

"Timothy Webb," he shook it with a smile. Holly couldn't even breathe.

"I'm sorry I'm late." Gail sat quickly. "Hi," she turned to Holly specifically. "Continue."

As the doctor started to speak again, Holly couldn't stop staring at her girlfriend. While Gail trained her eyes on the doctor, she slipped her hand into Holly's. She couldn't bring herself to look at her, but she squeezed her hand for dear life.


	5. Chapter 5

_I'll carry the weight_  
_I'll do anything for you_  
_My bones may break._

The Penny never changed. Gail could appreciate that tonight. She had changed. In the seven years since she first held her badge, she had changed irrevocably, though she refused to admit it or even understand the ways in which she did. It was gradual and not yet complete, though she believed that she had established who she was as a person in the world already at her core. It was a matter of projecting it, or realizing it herself. The little things though, they had changed, they had grown.

With a snort and indignant sigh, Gail clapped her hand down on the table over the spinning toonie. _Heads_. She spun it again and watched it twirl on her tabletop once more.

The bar was busy, but she still held onto her corner seat like a miser, and no one approached her and her scotch and her spinning coin. Again she clapped her hand on it and noted the outcome before spinning it again.

With her chin in her palm and her heart someplace else, Gail stared so intently at the spectacle on her table that it was nearly quiet, with all of the ruckus and gaiety of the bar melding into a soft white noise of background murmurs. She needed it to be that way. She needed to slap that coin down repeatedly until her hand was pink and tender and aching, and she needed to understand everything that it meant.

"Oh, oh, hello Officer Peck," Oliver slipped into the booth beside Gail and she started to spin the coin again. "I am so relieved to find you here." Gail didn't look up. She just clapped her hand on the table again and spun it again. "Why yes, my day was great, you know, until my squad car went missing," Oliver shrugged and continued. "Or until my officer left without telling anyone where or why. That put a slight damper on my day." Gail spun the coin again and watched it twirl and flounder again. "But here I found the wondrous Officer Peck, alive and well at the Penny, so my spirits are raised once again."

There was a quiet again as Oliver chanced a look at the unwavering and unmoving girl. She spun the coin a few more times, noting the outcome and not doing anything else. From what he could tell, she didn't even touch her drink.

"This is the part where you apologize and beg for mercy since you're leaving and wouldn't want me to hate you forever," Oliver continued slowly, waiting.

"Heads and tails," Gail said, not looking at her commanding officer. "There's no rhyme or reason to which one it is. It could go either way. It's not fair, is it?"

"Coins?" Oliver asked, watching as she spun it again.

"458 heads," Gail nodded to herself. "423... no 424," she said, lifting her hand after stopping another. "424 tails."

"You've been at it a while," he observed, taking a wary sip of his pint.

"50%," Gail nodded. "Fifty."

"Gail, you took a cop car for a joy ride on your last day, and we have to talk about it." The blonde shook her head, assured and weary.

"I can't transfer," she shrugged, realizing it as the words came out of her mouth. "I can't transfer." The coin wobbled on its own as Gail looked at Oliver, almost realizing it was him for the first time, unsure of who she thought she was talking to before. "I have to stay at 15. Shit." Gail covered her mouth for a second before becoming reinterested in the coin. Oliver watched her hold it up and then in her palm as she flipped it back and forth before twirling it again. "Holy fuck," she sighed.

For just a few more minutes, Oliver looked away and surveyed the bar. He had learned to be delicate when it came to probing the psyche of a certain Gail Peck. Whatever was happening in this moment was precarious, at best, and Oliver could easily say the wrong thing by saying anything at all.

"You have to tell me why you want to stay," he ventured. Work was a sensitive subject, but Gail had softened to her mother and her own place within the department over the years. Her work was almost like a bruise, purple and pale green, achy to the touch and tender to the skin over it.

"50%," Gail said again, grabbing the coin. "Heads again."

"Gail... Darlin', what's going on?"

"Half. 50-50." she sighed, picking up the coin and staring at each side. "Did you know that I bought a ring for Holly over a year ago?" Oliver watched her watching the coin between her fingers. "I did. We went to the mall, shopping for presents for my mom for Christmas. Holly is good at that sort of thing. I'm terrible." Gail shook her head and anxiously twirled the coin. "I never got my parents presents in years. But Holly insisted. And she always finds something that is perfect for them. And for Steve. And for her family. She does all of the shopping and drags me along while I complain about wasting an off day, and I complain about the lights and music and all of it. And she tells me to shut up and enjoy it because she is in love with the season." Gail slammed her hand down again to look at the coin. "I luck out sometimes, and find something nice for her. She pretends. But it'd been three years and I wanted to get her something that would knock her out, you now? I wanted to do something spectacular. And while we were at the mall I paid attention. I tried everything." The coin started spinning.

Oliver quietly waited for the story to get to the point that mattered. With Gail it was always that way. She spoke in abstract and she spoke in ways that waited for people to understand and interpret what she met. At times, she could be the most honest person Oliver ever met, especially about herself. It's easy to learn the important things about someone when they only tell a few bits and pieces. She could snap a pretty accurate judgement about someone in an angry way that left people uncomfortable. But she was strikingly honest about herself.

"I even dragged her past the jewellery store on purpose," Gail continued, staring at the coin again. "And she found a bracelet for my mom and earrings for her sister and I found it, all by myself. It was sitting right there and it was perfect." A little harder, Gail slammed her hand down and didn't lift it, but stared at the hand with the coin beneath. "I went back every day after work for a week and picked it up. I held it and I don't know what made me want to, but I bought it. Then I ran to the store that she pointed out the iPod she wanted and gave her that for Christmas."

"It took me six weeks to ask Celery," Oliver nodded appreciatively. Without looking at the coin, Gail dragged her hand along the table and left it at the edge before digging into her coat pocket and pulling out a ring. Squinting her eyes she held it out for Oliver to see.

"It's been ten months," Gail confessed. "I keep it in my work locker. I emptied my work locker yesterday, and I've been carrying it around. I carried it around all day. I carried it in my uniform. I carried it with me today when I took that squad car." Gail stared at her fingers which held the ring and put it on the table next to her glass of untouched whiskey. She twirled the coin again instead. "There's a fifty percent chance she would say yes."

"I think it's more than fifty," Oliver assured her.

"Holly's sick, Oliver," Gail said, not looking up from the coin.

"Sick...?" he ventured after a few seconds.

"461 heads, 431 tails," Gail said, looking under her hand again.

"Gail, I need more, darlin'. How many of these have you had?" Oliver tipped his beer bottle towards her drink. She shook her head.

"This afternoon, a doctor looked us both in the eyes and told us that Holly has a fifty percent chance," Gail swallowed.

"Fifty percent chance of what?"

"She has cancer, Oliver. He said that she has a fifty percent chance, and they're optimistic. But that's all her life is, a huge flip of a coin. And the icing on it all, is that I just found out today. Her best friend told me."

Gail felt her teeth gritting and her jaw tighten and she clapped her hand down again.

"I'm so mad, Oliver. I'm so angry."

When Gail stopped the coin again, Oliver stopped her from doing it again. He took the coin from her fist, wresting it from her angry fingers.

"It's okay," Oliver promised. "Gail, it's going to be okay."

"That's what the doctor kept saying, but I couldn't even look at her the entire time. And I couldn't even..." Gail stared straight at her fist on the table. "They want her to have surgery. There were so many big words I didn't understand, but I didn't want to look stupid..."

"Hey, it's alright. You were there," he tried to tell her.

"Fifty percent," Gail repeated. "A flip of a coin. My life is a coin toss. Holly's life is a coin toss. And I don't know what to do next."

"We'll figure it out," Oliver promised.

* * *

The apartment was quiet. Every nook and cranny seemed to be overwhelmingly brimming with silence. Holly's mind, however, was a full din of clamour and clashing and ruckus. So she did chores. She did the laundry until every rag and scrap of clothes was folded. And she washed the windows and floors. She scrubbed the counters. Did the dishes. She didn't have to think.

It'd been six months of house hunting before they decided on this one. Six months of Gail complaining about floor tiles and bathroom placement. Six months of Holly not being fond of window placement and neighbourhoods. Six months of Holly telling Gail that they lived for over a year in her old place and it wasn't a big deal. Six months of Gail insisting that if they were doing this, _this_, as in _them_, then it had to be _their_ place. Six months of Holly agreeing, but completely dreading the packing of her old place. Six months of Gail excited to find a place where she wouldn't have to move from for a long while.

And now they had two Christmases and birthdays and years in their little corner duplex that Gail accused of being as narrow as a plank. It was Gail's stupid bag by the front door that Holly tripped over every so often, and Holly's stupid coffee maker that Gail could never quite get to make a cup as good as her girlfriend made. It was a wall of growing pictures that led upstairs. It was a crappy set of washer and dryers in the chilly basement that was filled with boxes of old clothes and past relationships. It was a pet fish named Phillip III who continually inherited the bowl from the predecessors. It was a ridiculously comfy couch that was three months of arguing as well. It was a stupid game console that Holly objected to but Gail insisted upon having. It was a comfy bed with soft sheets that smelled like it was made just for them.

As she moved through the house, Holly thought her mind would be on the appointment, or rather Gail's quick departure afterwards. But instead, all she could think about was how horrible it would be for Gail to come back to this place alone one day. That thought struck her hard and she sat on the stairs in front of the door and tried to breathe in the face of her own mortality.

There was a box, in the basement, and Holly knew every inch of its contents. She knew their exact location. She memorized the layout, and in the face of regaining her ability to walk and not feel like a boulder was on her chest, she went in search of it in the drafty room. She hadn't gone through it when they moved. Instead she just let it be packed and told Gail that it belonged in the basement and that was that. She hadn't opened it in years, but now felt apt. And so she allowed herself to get lost.

"Holl?" Gail leaned over and peered down the steps to the basement. Holly had registered her movements upstairs, but didn't have the courage to call out to her. "It's freezing down here. What are you doing?" Gail made it down six creaky steps before leaning on the railing and surveying the tender way her girlfriend emptied and situated the worn, old box in front of her.

"I was cleaning," Holly informed her, without looking up. The cold seeped through the cement floor and into her limbs, but she didn't move, just let it numb what it could. "And I couldn't stop thinking about when we moved in here. Remember, the huge rainstorm that lasted a week?" Holly didn't look up to see if Gail nodded, or the worry that flashed across the other's face. "And I realized I hadn't looked through this box in a long time. Since before I met you, actually." Holly unfolded a shirt on her lap and ran her fingers along the seams of the shoulders and collar. "I thought about you coming home to an empty house full of our life, and me, not being here, and I didn't know what to do."

Gail stood a little straighter at the thought and watched Holly stare intently at the odds and ends spread around her.

"I'm sorry I could die, Gail," Holly looked up at Gail despite the ache that felt like a dull blade in her chest bone. "All I want is a thousand more years with you. We've had four, and that's just not enough. It's not enough!" her voice raised in anger and her chest fought against the ache to expand as much as her tense muscles would allow. She felt how glassy her eyes were, but no tear betrayed the strength of her desire. She was grateful she didn't cry. She didn't want to cry. She wanted to be mad and feel guilty. She didn't deserve anything else.

Gail didn't have anything left in her. After her exhausting day, there was nothing left in her muscles or nerves or even heart to make her stand up to the facts and image of Holly in the basement with a box of her mother. That was it. A box. Gail could have a box one day, of Holly. She sat on the stairs that led down to the basement, just a few from being on the ground with Holly. She just didn't have it in her to go and further. She wished she did but debated any other scenario, even if she could. No, time and fate left her on those stairs in that spot, and regardless of ability, she would not move any further, even if she could.

"I don't even think a thousand would be enough," Gail sighed and wrung her hands anxiously. Holly just nodded and sniffled before looking at the near empty box once again, unable to watch Gail any longer. Not her heavy shoulders and head, nor her anxious hands and antsy feet. "It's supposed to be me," she whispered, turning her head to see Holly once again. "I'm supposed to be the one who gets shot or blown up or kidnapped and beaten."

"I know," Holly nodded. Slowly she tucked a few things back into the box, slow and steady.

"I love you so much," Gail sighed.

"I know," Holly repeated, holding off on the last few items and instead becoming transfixed on Gail.

"I can't do this without you," she confessed, gripping her knees with white knuckled fists. "I can't do this without you anymore. You're... you're this... you are..." Gail felt the hot streak of tears on her cheeks, warmer than most and full of bitter contempt and fear. "You are. The best thing. About me," she said in measured tones and through gritted teeth. Her breathing was long and deliberate to counteract the traitorous tears. "I don't. I don't know how. I don't know how to exist in a world where you do not." Her jaw gripped and her head ducked and her lungs stuttered and sputtered and fought with her throat but she couldn't stop because Oliver said she had to be honest. "So you have to come home. To me. Always. I come home. You come home. That's it."

Gail was not crying. She couldn't be as she was speaking. But her cheeks were wet and moist when Holly stood and crept over to her. Her cheeks had a river run down them. Her cheeks were an ocean; angry and salty and vengeful of all else. Her words had come out forceful and sure, as if they were simply the only way forward, and Holly understood it. Gail was not one to speak with clarity. She was not one to vocalize words that would feel weak in her mouth and therefore she was not forthright in conventional ways, and Holly understood how difficult each syllable had been, especially if Holly could one day leave her. Words were permanent and once said conveyed a personal truth. Saying them gave flight to reality.

"Okay," Holly nodded at the foot of the stairs.

"You make me brave." The words came out at once, proud and direct. "You make me brave. I will." She dug her fingers into her knee even harder, almost afraid that her rage would come out in other ways if she wasn't careful. There was nothing to lash out at, at least not directly. "I will be brave. I will make you brave."

"You do," Holly assured her. She tried a sympathetic smile, but Gail wasn't done.

"You didn't tell me," Gail accused. "It's my life too. You are. You are my life, too. I could have been there. I am here." Gail had lost it all, flummoxed her speech and got off track trying to assure Holly of how strong she could be, for her.

"I know," Holly nodded.

Slowly, she ran her hands over Gail's until they relaxed their grip on her leg. Gail felt them cramping and aching from the coin slapping. Holly leaned forward and kissed her palms before wiping away the tears on her cheeks. Gail only moved to wrap her arms around Holly's waist and pull her closer. Holly held Gail's head to her chest and ran her hand through the soft hair there. She kissed the top of her head as the two of them clung and promised and begged in silence with the other.

"I want ten thousand more years," Gail whispered to her stomach.

"That's all?" Holly whispered into the crown of her girlfriend's head. Gail swallowed hard and shook her head.

"I want forever."

"Me too."


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm your's and that's it, forever.  
You're mine and that's it, forever.  
_

Gail had never been a morning person. Not even remotely. Not even with the occasional surprise wake up from her girlfriend that left her in a good mood for the rest of the day and eager to repay the favour when it came time for them to crawl back into bed at night. Mornings were formidable and mornings were always too soon. But as she watched the minutes tick by through the night in her uneasy and constantly waking sleep, Gail couldn't help but wish for morning and everything that came with it. She couldn't wait for another day with Holly, the soundly sleeping bedmate that stole the sheets so that Gail had to wrap her arms around her for warmth.

"Stop wiggling," Holly whispered, feeling Gail's arms around her stomach again. The tossing and turning on the other side of the bed woke her twice already.

"Stop stealing the blankets," Gail whispered harsher.

The bed was still again. It was only after three. Gail knew that there was still two hours of sleep before they would wake up to go to the hospital, but she just couldn't do it. Not even with the tired licking at her bones. Not even with the sleepiness of the exhausting past few days telling her to rest.

In the quiet and stillness, Holly felt herself drifting off again. But she fought it for a moment and turned over to face her wakeful girlfriend. Open and staring back at her in the dark were Gail's cold blue eyes. Holly didn't know what to say exactly. So she didn't say anything. Instead she pulled on the blankets and tossed them over Gail., she mingled her legs with Gail's stubborn ones. Holly pushed herself closer to the grumpy girl in bed with her and nudged her nose.

"You need to sleep," Holly sighed.

"I know," Gail nodded.

With a warm hand the sleepless blonde felt Holly's fingers in her hair and along her temple. She felt her nose on her nose. She felt Holly's breath on her collar. Without thinking, reflexive and genuine, Gail kissed Holly's forehead and ran her thumbs along her jaw.

"You're worried," Holly stated, simple and quiet in the night.

"Not a bit," Gail lied.

"It's just a simple exploratory surgery," Holly explained, shifting closer.

"I read that if the tumours have blood supplies, they can't take them out," Gail swallowed. She'd spent hours reading when Holly thought she was at work. She spent hours in the medical library on campus surrounded by journals and asking students to explain things to her. It cost her three parking ticket removals and about a dozen coffees. "And they have no idea what they're getting into, and they assigned us a percentage, but did you know it could go up or down?"

"Do you know what they're going to do?" Holly hushed her as Gail shook her head. "They're going to take out all of the bad and cancer, and I'm going to wake up after a few hours, and be super sore and have nasty stitches and you're going to spoil me with bed rest and control of the television and... ice cream. Definitely ice cream."

"I'm okay with that," Gail decided.

"That's all that's going to happen, Peck, so stop worrying. You need all the beauty sleep you can get."

With a small chuckle Holly scooted even closer. Gail snorted indignantly and let her girlfriend burrow under her chin. She felt Holly's hands slip under her shirt and up her spine, squeezing around her and breathing into her collar bone. Gail stretched and tried to fit closer. She ran her fingers through Holly's long hair, brushing it along the pillow and empty bed.

Gradually Holly's arms slackened along Gail's back as she drifted towards sleep again. She didn't move though, just stayed tucked, long and full against her girlfriend. With the steady breathing and rhythmic brushing, Gail felt relaxed. Maybe it was Holly's assurances. Maybe it was the past few mentally and emotionally draining days getting everything straight in her own head. But Gail fell into a reluctant sleep.

* * *

"I'm starving," Gail complained, lulling her head against the back of the seat.

"I told you to eat breakfast," Holly scolded.

"It's been six hours since breakfast. You know I have a quick metabolism," Gail reminded her, recrossing her legs on the dash as the countryside rolled past in the midmorning light. "And we were supposed to be there already. You got us lost."

"It was a detour. I haven't been in this area in a long, long time. But you're more than welcome to drive if you can do better." Holly sighed and rubbed her eyes in frustration.

"It's your sister that wants to get married way out in the middle of no where."

"Alright, if you're starving and withering away," Holly said, watching the signs in the middle of no where.

"I am. I truly am," Gail shook her head and watched the trees blurring outside. "And the Stewarts never feed me properly."

"You weren't complaining last night," Holly cocked an eyebrow at her. Gail rolled her eyes in the passenger seat. "Remember the convincing I had to do to get you to even come to this wedding?"

"Yeah, I do. And I don't think your mom would appreciate that, Stewart. And as of right now, you're not feeding me."

"Gail, I told you not to come if you're going to be a grouch."

"I'm not. I want nothing more than to hang out at your sister's wedding excursion in the middle of the woods for my long weekend off while your parents are all chipper and asking if I still wield a gun for a living and enjoy employing my services for 'the man'." Gail's use of air quotes bothered Holly and she knew it. When she chanced a look over at her driving girlfriend she knew that she'd gone too far.

Holly pursed her lips and pulled into the dirt shoulder of the road after a few seconds.

"I like weddings," Holly insisted as she put the car in park. "And this weekend was supposed to be a nice break for us. So let's feed you so you will stop being such a butthead."

Gail opened her mouth to argue, but Holly already took off her seatbelt and opened the door. She watched her girlfriend walk around the car and towards a truck near the grass. Angry at herself, Gail joined her.

Ten angry minutes of browsing later, Gail dug into her pocket and graciously paid for everything despite Holly's silence. Dutifully and petulant like a child in timeout, she followed with the purchases in her arms, not even complaining when Holly elected to sit on a mound of dirt at the base of some barely blooming sunflowers. She even went as far as to offer Holly the first of the strawberries from the basket she selected.

"I can be a butthead, sometimes," Gail admitted after a few moments of thoughtful chewing. She stared at her hands that worked on pulling apart the peanuts there. Holly tossed her a look that she felt between her shoulder blades. "Okay, frequently."

"You can be," Holly agreed. She took another strawberry from the picnic between them.

"I love your family. They are a lot nicer than mine. And I am excited for this trip, too. I'm sorry I've been grumpy... It's just work... and my mom. She's been on me like crazy. And I don't know... I shouldn't take it out on you though." It happened every year about this time; detective exams. With each testing date came renewed vigour and interest in the prodigy of Elaine Peck. A weekend away from expectations and another year of disappointing as a footnote in the family christmas newsletter was needed, and Gail tried to remember to escape meant to shed.

"Nope, you shouldn't," Holly nodded. "Do you think you can stop being a butthead long enough to at least enjoy this wonderful lunch I've prepared?"

"If there's food involved, I can not be a butthead."

Eventually they fell into an easy rhythm and Gail's grumpiness passed. The clouds occasionally blotted out the sun, but mostly they sat in the late summer heat and let midmorning shift into mid-afternoon with strawberry butts thrown into the field behind them.

"I love these things," Holly pointed up at the buds of the flowers. Gail ran her hand through Holly's hair on her lap. "They remind me of here. My grandpa used to grow them and me and my sister would lay like this and build tunnels with them."

"This is a good place," Gail agreed. She couldn't care less about the flowers or this godforsaken patch of dirt that smelled. But she had a beautiful girl in her lap with soft long hair that was warmed by the sunlight filtering between the baby-green branches of the near-blooming sunflowers. Gail watched her girlfriend close her eyes and enjoy every second and inch of this minute. Pulling her fingers through Holly's hair, Gail found a calm that kept her one track. It'd been something she never experienced or achieved before her. Now, it was addictive.

For just a moment, Gail thought that there wasn't anywhere more wonderful on the face of the entire planet. She reached up and bent down one of the young sunflowers to cover Holly's eyes from the sun.

"We should stay here forever," Holly whispered, cocking an eye to look at her girlfriend in the sun. Her near white hair was lit up bright and wild in the summer noon sun.

"Okay," Gail found herself agreeing.

Holly tugged on her shirt and pulled her in for a soft kiss before grinning and basking once again in the sun. Gail watched her long, sun-baked legs shift and stretch against the earth. With a belly full of fresh fruit and the sun warm on her skin through the leaves and buds of the sunflowers, Gail couldn't imagine being happier anywhere else. Maybe it was the fact that it was quiet and they were out of the city, or maybe it was the prospect of a few days off of work. But it was definitely Holly, and Gail was certain that she couldn't be happier.

* * *

The walls were a horrible kind of mauve. Gail could feel herself snarling at it condescendingly as the hours continued to move forward. The coffee in the styrofoam cup had grown cold long ago, but she didn't bother to throw it away. Lethargic and exhausted from just a couple hours of sleep, combined with the worry of what was happening just beyond the doors to her left made Gail stuck in a limbo of antsy and weary. She ricocheted between anxious and exhausted like a pinball waiting for the tilt.

"Would you like something for lunch?" Holly's sister knelt in front of Gail.

The older Stewart had her sister's eyes. Or perhaps it was the other way around. No matter what, Gail found it particularly unnerving to have Holly's eyes looking back at her and to hear a voice similar, though maybe a bit higher, calling her pet names that Holly used when Gail was tired or stubborn. Gail wondered if it was genetic.

"No, thank you," Gail swallowed and dug her hands into the cup and the arm of the chair. She tried to smile as sweetly as she could, but the mauve or grey or violet or whatever blank colour that seemed to cover every wall made it hard to do that at all.

"You have to eat something," Lucy patted Gail's knee.

"Have you heard anything?" Gail changed the subject.

"The nurse said they weren't sure how much longer." Gail just nodded. Lucy stood, baby belly barely protruding. Gail came eye to eye with it and stared for a moment before she averted her eyes. It made Gail angry for reasons she didn't want to think of at all. Lucy ran her hand over the small bump before looking at Gail for one more instant and then looking away, guilty and sad for the same reason Gail was angry.

Gail was left again to the mauve wall. The grey or violet or purple or the most bland and horrible colour that anyone could ever invent. She didn't want to look a few seats over, where Holly's family hunkered down in shifts. Lucy, sending her husband to get snacks. Holly's other sister, Sara playing cards with her father. It was an entire family who had already done this before, and here they were, ready for more. Gail was unprepared in every sense of the word. Cold coffee and no snacks. No playing cards. No change for the vending machine.

"Hey," someone took the seat beside Gail. She still stared at the stupid lilac with prison beige inspired walls. All she could do was run through the morning, retracing every word, every kiss, every prayer. She was certain she said _I love you_ at least five times. She tried to remember it all, as a form of prayer. Memory could be a form of prayer.

"Earth to Peck," Oliver snapped his fingers in front of the blonde.

"What are you doing here?" Gail shook her head and came back from the trance.

"Thought you could use the back up," he shrugged and settled into the chair, looking around awkwardly.

"You don't have to be here, Oliver. I didn't tell you so you felt obligated to... I don't know, hold my hand."

"I see no hand holding taking place," Oliver held his up in demonstration of their freedom. "And I wouldn't dream of it. I was just stopping by, seeing how you are."

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" Gail eyed him warily in her peripheral. "I don't want to become... whatever. I don't know. I don't want to become whatever this makes me eventually. Or Holly. She's private. We're. Private." It was hard for Gail to articulate why she wanted to just go it alone. It might have had something to do with the absolute petrifying fear of the newly uncertain future.

"Nope, just stopping by on my lunch break," he decided, leaning over and digging in his bag. "Thought you might want something."

"I'm not hungry," Gail shook her head as Oliver pulled out a sandwich.

"I know you're worrying," Oliver took it out and handed her half. "But you have to eat. Holly is strong and amazing and it's routine surgery."

"There's nothing routine about gutting my girlfriend from nasty tumours growing inside her reproductive organs," Gail insisted, staring at the sandwich in her hands. Oliver ate at his and pulled out two cokes and two bags of chips.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he acquiesced. "But I brought you lunch anyway, so eat and say thank you and be glad I didn't bring Uno."

"Holly's family," Gail took a bite and nudged her head. "They've done this before."

"Oh," Oliver swallowed and nodded.

They finished their lunch together with small talk and Gail's vigilant gazing at every nurse that walked down the hall. Oliver made a few remarks, but other than that, he sat quietly beside Gail until well into his lunch break. She wanted to tell him to leave, but she was oddly afraid of the thought.

"This is the ugliest colour I have ever seen," Dov whistled as he sat down beside Gail.

For a moment she just stared at the string bean of a cop who seemed oblivious. Instead he looked all over the waiting room, taking in all of the details and looking peppy and perky in his off duty clothes. Gail sat, stoic and still, appalled and surprised. It was apparent on her face.

"You told him!" Gail slapped Oliver as hard as she could a few times in rapid succession.

"Ow, ow, okay, well, yes," Oliver shrugged and held up his hands, once again, in surrender.

"Hey, am I late?" Chris came running down the hall, in uniform.

"We've been here," Traci and Andy sprinted from the other side, both gripping their sides, winded from the sprinting. "We've totally been here. Just got turned around a bit." Andy leaned over and held her knees and shook her head. Traci held her hands over her head.

"Yeah, you're late," Dov shook his head at Chris.

Mortified, Gail looked at the Stewarts, all looking up and watching the literal footrace that was taking place in the quiet solitude of the mauve waiting room. She wanted to punch Oliver. He stood and ushered the others into the seats.

"I better get back. Gail, I will talk to you later," Oliver made his way down the hall. She was still slack-jawed and angry. "Call me when you know something. Goodbye, rooks."

"So how long were you not going to tell us that your girlfriend has cancer?" Dov asked as everyone shuffled and Gail tried to process her blown cover. It grew quiet, suddenly, everyone freezing in their spots.

"I'm late!" Steve slid into the room, panting as the others had been not a few moments before. "Any word on Holly?"

Gail was still unable to speak, internally panicked from the influx of loud people running into her life down ugly coloured hallways. She wanted nothing more than for it to be quiet and for it to be just her there, avoiding her entire life and prisoner of the ticking of the clock. Now, there was Dov looking at her expectantly, and Traci and Andy were adjusting in their seats and waiting, and Chris was adjusting his radio which blared, and Steve was looking at her with his hands on her hips and waiting while he caught his breath.

"You guys aren't even close to Holly..." Gail began.

"Future sister-in-law," Steve interjected.

"Really good friend and colleague," Traci insisted.

"Frequent Pub Trivia adversary," Dov piped up.

"She's your person," Andy looked sheepishly at Gail.

"She introduced me to Brooke," Chris leaned forward.

"I had to hear about her every bloody day," James appeared in the hallway, leaning cockily against the door. "And your my partner."

"That's all real nice, but-"

"We're here for you, you idiot," James shook his head.

As much as Gail wanted to scold them and be angry that Oliver couldn't keep her secret so she could suffer in silence, she knew that it was futile to do so. She'd somehow managed to catch flies with vinegar already. It was pointless to try to get rid of them now.

* * *

"I finally got Dad to go home," Annie leaned against the doorway. For a moment she surveyed the hospital room and the blonde sitting beside her sister. It was an understatement to say that she looked tired, hunched over by the plastic railing on the bed. With a weary head Gail turned her head to survey the youngest sister.

"Good, thanks," she smiled gratefully. It was impossible for Gail to make the pack of Stewarts dwindle. She had no right or control despite wanting nothing more than to be alone and quiet.

"Do you want to go grab dinner downstairs?" the sister tried again. She liked Gail. She liked the way she made snide remarks during dinner, and how she made Holly obscenely happy when Annie was certain it would be impossible to make her sister so. And then there was today and the past few days where she did nothing but wait on Holly and sit dutifully like a guard dog in the waiting room and beside her hospital bed.

"No, thank you," Gail swallowed and looked back at her sleeping girlfriend. "When she woke up she was thirsty, and the doctors will be in to explain things, to her, to us. So I want to be here for it."

"She'll be asleep for another few hours," Annie explained. "I've done this before."

"What was it like?" Gail sat up a little in her chair. She'd spent the entire day in the back of the room, away from everyone else. Her family fawned and fretted and did what came naturally, and Gail was afraid to assert herself into it all. "I mean... what am I getting myself into?" Gail was quiet and stared at the tubes in Holly's arms. "What can I do for her?"

"It was hard. It is hard," the sister decided. "Holly was close to Mom. I was just a kid. Matty was just a baby. But I remember her as different. My sister was different before. I wish I could remember, so I was better prepared. I just follow Lucy's lead. Just... be there. Be alive, every minute."

There was a quiet as both women stared at each other. One, seasoned in hospitals and testing. The other, new and terrified and bravely fighting her instincts to run at every beep and heartbeat.

"Are you worried that you'll be next?"

"Yeah," the little sister nodded, fiddling with her collar anxiously. "But it seems to skip and go to every other one, so I guess Matty would have to worry. I'll tell him to guard his ovaries." Gail snorted a little laugh. "I'm going to head home. Lucy will be in tomorrow morning after the kids get off to school. I'll be in with Sara after class."

"Thanks," Gail nodded and wrung her hands.

"Go get some rest." Gail nodded at the advice. She wouldn't leave, but the sister knew that already. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

The door closed with a soft click and Gail was left, safe and sound in the solitude that only exists in a hospital room in the middle of the night. Surrounded by people all day had somehow drained Gail past her capacity to handle social interactions, yet at the same time, spoiled her with a constant noise and sound and presence that kept her sane enough.

The hours marched forth in that steady, lengthy way that Gail still hadn't grown used to over the past few days. She was drowsy and felt her head bob in the quiet room that breathed steady and heavy in its own corner of the hall. Nurses came in and checked on Holly and gave Gail small smiles. Tired as she was Gail couldn't seem to make up her angry scowl that normally would have met someone at three in the morning.

"Gail?" Holly whispered, shifting her head and squinting her eyes.

"Hey, good morning," Gail leaned forward over the bed as she sat on the edge of her chair.

"I saw you before," Holly coughed and cleared her throat.

"You woke up after the anesthesia wore off," Gail smiled at the memory of her loopy girlfriend. "You were... groggy."

"Uhhhhggh," Holly groaned and swallowed again as she shook her head and closed her eyes. Gail quickly poured a cup of water and held the straw for Holly so she could take a few sips. "Was it embarrassing?"

"Very," Gail promised, setting the cup down again. "The doctors said they would talk to you in the morning. The surgery took longer than... longer than normal. But you did so good, baby." Gail kissed Holly's cheek and hugged what she could while her girlfriend remained still in the bed. "You did real good."d

"I'm sore," Holly cringed when she tried to move. Gail kissed her again, soft and easy and full of the tired that was holding into her bones.

"You're here," Gail whispered, running her hands through Holly's hair.

"I miss your voice," Holly took a deep breath. "You've been quiet. I heard," she moved her arm and placed it over her stomach. "I heard my sisters. I heard Steve and my dad and Oliver? was he here? But no Gail."

"I was quiet today," Gail confessed. She took her seat and leaned on the bed as best she could. "Rest a bit more."

"Tell me something," Holly asked, settling back in and closing her eyes. Gail ran her hand along Holly's arm.

Gail closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on the railing. For just a moment she was grateful and happy and still terribly terrified of doing this for many more nights and for many more months. The heavy worry that settled on her shoulders seemed very far away from where it had been just moments before.

"Do you remember your sister's wedding?" Gail lifted her chin once again and found Holly, sleepy-eyed and tired looking back at her. "When it rained and all? And I was a butthead and we had a picnic in the sunflower field?" Holly nodded and closed her eyes. "I dreamt about it last night. About the sunflowers. We should go back. Just you and me. We could spend a long weekend in a cabin."

"I dreamt about sunflowers too," Holly grinned.

"It's decided then. You and me will take a trip in a few weeks, once you're all healed up. The sunflowers will be blooming, and we can stop at that truck and get strawberries."

"You hate going up there."

"Yeah, but I love you, and you love it and that was a good weekend."

"You're all mushy, Peck," Holly grinned. Gail found herself playing with the ends of Holly's hair. With a smile, Gail leaned her cheek on the railing and watched Holly. For the first time all day, her eyelids became heavy, but she fought it.

"Yeah, well, that's me."

"It must have been bad news," Holly swallowed again and kept her eyes closed. She couldn't look at Gail. Not right now.

"The doctors will be in later," Gail whispered.

In the quiet that came back, Gail listened to Holly's monitors and all that they sounded like in their echoing fakeness and simulated rhythms. She stared at Holly's hair between her fingers and her skin under her fingertips as she dragged them along her wrist. She watched Holly open her eyes and look back with this sadness and guilt that made her braver, if that was possible.

"You look tired," Holly said, running her knuckle along Gail's cheek.

"Someone kept me up all night, tossing and turning," Gail grinned.

"I love you," Holly sighed, closing her eyes again.

"I know."

"I need more drugs."

"Coming right up."


	7. Chapter 7

_Please your forever-_  
_Not a day less will do_  
_From you._

The thunder grumbled politely in the early morning streets. It wouldn't grow to a complete ruckus just yet, not before the alarm clocks around the city were chiming. With a yawn, Gail shook her hand through her damp hair and leaned against the counter of the café. The long night and the tired of the past month seemed to accumulate like rain drops on her shoulders, weighing on her spine a muscles in violent ways.

"You are too tired," Mr. Amir scolded Gail as he continued with the opening of his shop. With a sigh she pulled the beanie back over her head and managed a smile for him.

"I'm still working night shifts," Gail explained, turning and watching the proprietor setting up chairs and wiping down tables. Delicious warm scent streams of baking foods and brewing liquids came from the kitchen in the back.

"You work too much," the older man swatted a towel at her.

"Says the man that's up at four every morning," she retorted, crossing her arms and watching the rain outside pour down in buckets against the windows of the café. The lights from the street lamps bled into the night and wet street, smearing themselves across the city outside in orange fingerpainted streaks.

"I'm an old man, we have no need for sleep. I've slept enough in my life," he tutted. "Can't you sleep? How did the raspberry tea leaf work for Holly?"

"Yeah, she said it helped, and she ate well," Gail nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."

"When you know more, I will make you more specific mixes," he explained. "I will give you some to make you sleep tonight. It is for you," he warned, moving quickly behind the counter and searching among his tins. "You drink it and relax and you will have the best sleep of your life. It will give your dreams dreams. It will feel like you've slept for a month. My uncle used to have me make it for him. He had nightmares. Bad ones."

"I could go for that," Gail stretched her torso, twisting slightly and rolling her shoulders.

Being shoved in a surveillance van for the past six nights had done a number on her and she was just plain sore and exhausted. Working daylight shifts had been more manageable when it came to Holly. Gail could stop by the house once or twice during the day, check on her, get her whatever she needed so she wasn't stubbornly moving around more than she should. Most importantly, she got to spend the evening making her food and brewing her a cup of tea and reading and listening to her complain about not being able to go back to work yet. But this stake out, these late hours meant that Gail napped, off and on, throughout the day, and spent as much time with Holly as she could. It meant that Holly was alone some nights, other than when her little sister came to stay or her brother stopped by for dinner.

"Here," Gail shook her head from her revelry. The tired was aching in every sore muscle like a slow clock that counted forward still. The clank of a tin made her foggy brain focus once again. "I made this, for Holly and this," another small clank. "This is for you. When you stop drinking coffee like a camel. It will relax you."

"If I wasn't a camel, who else would be your first customer of the day?" Gail asked between sniffs of the tea canisters.

"Someone who woke at normal hours," Amir shrugged and turned towards the window that looked into the kitchen. "If not you, someone else. That's how things work."

"You spoil me with compliments," Gail grunted, digging in her pocket for some money.

"My shop has gotten noisy in mornings since you moved into this neighbourhood," he shook his head and came back to the counter with a container of food in his hand. He had a soft smile and warm eyes and Gail enjoyed him as a wisdom and parable dispensing coffee vender that knew all of the secrets of tea to make her girlfriend feel better.

"You have made my life better," Gail said honestly, in a burst of humanity and gratefulness that only came in her tired, decaffeinated brain. The old man smiled for an instant and went back to pouring a styrofoam mug of coffee for Gail.

"This I roasted yesterday, there are spices my mother sent from Morocco. My best yet," he bowed slightly as he filled it up and put the lid atop it. "And this is black tea, for Holly. With some fresh-made beghrir. My wife made them before prayer."

"Thank you, thank you," Gail took a sip eagerly. "Perfect, as usual."

"You are back in the van tonight?" he asked a Gail perused the items.

"No, thank God," she shook her head, counting out more than she should from the disheveled and wrinkled wad of change in her pocket. "I am off for two who days. But Holly is going back tomorrow for her tests and we're going to sit and talk about the next steps. So... I guess I'd rather be in the van."

"You go and talk to them, and after you come here. I will make a soup that will make your chest feel like sunshine. I can make Dr. Holly some tea, too, once I know the treatment."

"I don't think tea is going to cure her. Not soup or voodoo or spells either." The words came out in the honesty. The words came up as a sad realization. Gail faltered as she stood there.

"Prayers are not spells," he shook his head. They had many debates. He told her many things about his training and his life and she genuinely loved him, of that Gail was certain, because for the past few weeks, especially, he invited her in when she went for walks in the middle of the night, and he let her drink whatever concoction he was brewing and trying and what she needed, and he told her stories; real, fake, imaginary, mythical, it didn't matter. He told her things. He might have been her best friend, and for Gail, it was weird to think of a tiny Moroccan man as her best friend, but it fit.

"You just like her more than me," Gail shrugged, pulling up her hood before entering the storm once again.

"She's much nicer," he smiled.

"I'll see you for lunch tomorrow," Gail gathered her items finally, tucking the canisters into her pockets. "Thank you, for everything."

"Hudafez," he bowed his head slightly.

"Tell your wife, thank you for breakfast."

"Naturally," he smiled and watched the hooded cop hunch her shoulders and join the rain as it ran a river through the street. For a moment he just watched the window where he had last seen her and said a tiny prayer for the sister Gail reminded him of having so many years ago.

* * *

Bumbling as she was, Gail managed to unlock the door to their place and turn the hall light on without making too much commotion. But a clap of thunder that indicated that the truce between storm and sleeping city had ended made her jump, causing her bag to slam with a thump into the table that held the keys and mail and usually whatever Gail was carrying.

"Fucking fuck," she hissed, sucking the coffee that spilled through the lid and onto her hand, scalding her cold, rain wet skin. Putting everything down, Gail rubbed her hand before shaking her coat as she took it off. Rain slicked her pants and inundated her boots. She kicked them off at the door, leaving a sopping wet pile there to be conquered later.

And so she began her day, pantless and shivering, burnt and sore.

"What are you doing, Gail?" Holly sat up on the couch a little more at the sound of the commotion at the door. Not sleeping but not completely awake, she rubbed her eyes and squinted towards the door as she pulled her glasses down on her face.

"Burning my hands on this coffee," the cop sighed and pulled the beanie off as well, throwing it in the pile. "Why aren't you upstairs?"

"Why are you not wearing pants?"

"It's a little early for the question game, Hol," Gail shook her head and made her way into the living room. A clap of thunder overhead made the lights flicker a bit. With the puddles on the streets and the steady flow of rain through the night, Gail suspected flooding and power outages, but at least not until lunch. "I brought you breakfast and a new tea blend. It's supposed to boost your vitamins or whatever. He gave me some to help me sleep."

"Come here, you're probably freezing," Holly lifted the blanket she had been dozing in before Gail's arrival.

"Let me make you some tea first," Gail offered, handing Holly the container of food. She kissed the side of her head quickly, methodically, routinely.

"But you're not wearing pants," Holly watched her girlfriend strangely.

"Then you get breakfast and a show," she retreated into the kitchen. Holly quirked an eyebrow and turned around eagerly. It had been too long since Holly had seen Gail in anything other than sweats or her uniform. It had been too long since she had so much skin on display. Her eyes drank it in earnestly. Even when she opened the container and started to tear at the warm sweetbread inside, Holly watched her girlfriend move with purpose through the kitchen.

"Do you think we can just have a rainy day inside?" Gail asked, stove clicking as she lit the burner.

"I was going to try to spend the afternoon at work," Holly chewed and watched her girlfriend get a mug from the cupboard. She loved the skin on Gail's lower back. She loved the dip of her muscles and the dimples there on her porcelain skin. She loved the way colour looked on her, from the flush of her thighs, still cold and damp from the rain, to the dark blue of her underwear, Gail could hold colour and it looked so good on her it surprised Holly every time.

"We've been on different schedules for a week," Gail whined as she took another gulp from her coffee. "And it's too early for you to go back. You know that."

"I can't just sit around any longer. I'm going crazy. And it's not sabbatical, Gail. I don't have a free year of being cancerous." At the C-word Gail's face contorted and she turned their own coffee maker on, in need of another hit to get through the morning. She was going to get on a normal schedule and refused to be in bed before nine. That was her only real goal today besides Holly.

"If you think it's a good idea and you think you can," Gail reluctantly agreed. For a moment she stared at the kettle, willing it to whistle.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Holly tried to sound assuring, but she was convincing them both.

Gail shivered in the kitchen while Holly swallowed and stared at the container in her hands, no longer able to look at her, suddenly feeling voyeuristic. It felt like an impasse, just like the past month had felt like a giant standoff for some reason. Gail was dutiful and loyal and worked hard to coordinate with everyone in times when she really didn't want to communicate with people, and she went above and beyond for Holly, and her girlfriend knew it. From researching things and making soup and somehow collapsing into bed at the end of a day full of worrying and working and still kiss Holly's cheek, Gail did it all. But she never looked at Holly. Things were different. Things were... vanilla. Gail didn't let Holly get upset, get overjoyed, get excited. Everything was tempered.

"This smells good," Holly took the mug that Gail offered, snapping her out of the funk she found herself stuck in. "Oh, God, too cold," she hissed as Gail hopped on the couch and her cool legs met Holly's cozy ones. "Thank you, love."

"Anytime," Gail smiled weakly.

Holly took a sip and let the liquid warm her chest while Gail adjusted and burrowed into the couch and blanket. Eagerly she took some of the food from the container and chewed it while avoiding looking at her girlfriend.

"So, how was it last night?" Holly started.

"Caught the bad guys. I'm off for a few days," Gail nodded and rested her cheek on the couch cushion.

"You're such a good copper," Holly smiled with pride.

"I don't want you to go to work," Gail said blankly, ignoring the praise. It was typical Gail fashion, abrupt and to the point. Her face was blank and her eyes were screaming like her body was being burned from the inside out.

"Gail," Holly leaned her cheek on her hand as well, facing her girlfriend. Gail's legs were warming on Holly's skin, and the skin felt cold. "It's just a few-"

"I can't sleep," Gail stopped her. Her fingers picked at the blanket with purpose while her eyes watched. But Holly couldn't look away from them. They were true-north-blue. "I lay awake at night and I listen to you breathing. And when I do sleep, I see you and you're walking away, and I can never catch up. I can't yell, I can't grab you. I just see you going away." Gail shook her head and her eyes grew wide. "I jumped out of a van last night and tackled two armed guys because I had to remember that I could protect you from things. I can't protect you from... cancer. I can't tackle and shoot it and lock it up forever. I can't even understand what doctors are saying."

"Oh, honey," Holly whispered and held Gail's cheek. Gail closed her eyes and sighed. "We caught it early. You've talked to the doctors. You've read more than I have about it. You fill me up with medicinal teas and you protect me from gangs and robbers and thieves and you're getting really good at perfecting the jelly to peanut butter ratio I like. You're not a doctor, but you're not useless. Far from it."

"Fifty percent," Gail pulled her head away with a small tug. She couldn't handle Holly's support or coddling. "That's what he said."

"So?" Holly shrugged. "I've beat worse odds. I somehow got you." She smiled slightly as Gail's looked up at her from her lashes. "There's two and a half million people in this city alone. And I met my favourite one. I met the one in two and a half million that kicks me in her sleep and makes me unbelievably happy. Those odds are pretty ridiculous. Fifty percent is a walk in the park."

For what felt like too long, Gail stared at the container of food that was near empty now and nearly cold. She felt her jaw grow rigid and angry. She swallowed it all.

"You haven't been sleeping?" Holly asked in the quiet. Gail sighed and shook her head. She felt like a child. But she finally felt relieved.

"Why aren't you mad? You can't just be optimistic and fairy tails and wishing on rainbows. There are real facts and statistics and things. Things that are happening," Gail was agitated and ornery and the coffee wasn't helping. "They could say anything at that appointment tomorrow. They could say-"

"They could say that they got most of it, and I'll be alright," Holly tried. "You're driving yourself crazy trying to think from every angle. Gail, it's going to be okay."

"I should be telling you that!" she pleaded. "How can you just go along, floating so untouched?"

"You think I'm untouched?" Holly baulked at her assertion. "I have a scar that makes me feel so horrible I can't even look at you because I'm certain you can't look at me. I can't..." Holly swallowed and looked away. She paused and took a big breath before setting the container and her mug on the table and standing. She walked to the other side of the room, suddenly unable to sit beside her on the couch. "I can't ever have children. In one afternoon that was taken from me." Holly looked away from Gail and shook her head. "I have disease inside of me, wanting to kill me. And I have you, who looks at me," she turned back to Gail, whose wide eyes were watching her pace and hunch. "You look at me like I'm... strong. And I can barely move some days, not because I hurt, but because I _hurt_. So yes," Holly tilted her head and sighed. She watched Gail's eyebrows furrow at her last admission. "I am wishing on rainbows and eyelashes and pennies that things can go back to normal, or I won't have anything to live for if I do."

There was something between them. An impenetrable force that seemed to keep them separate. The coffee table could have been a wall. They looked at each other in ways that felt like they couldn't speak the same language. They heard each other in foreign tongues. Holly ran her hand over her abdomen and winced. Gail stared at her hand, at where her scar was resting on her body. Thunder grumbled and roared and raged outside as the rain threw itself against the roof and windows.

"You look at me like I'm strong," Gail whispered. Her teeth held her lips for a second. "I think I'm in over my head." Gail lifted the blanket. "Come here." Holly stalled and stared and stayed rooted. "Please." Reluctantly, Holly took her seat, still tired from the confessing.

With no warning, Gail leaned forward once Holly took the blanket again. She held her neck and she kissed her, biting her lip, stealing her breath, kissing her like she'd been afraid to kiss her for weeks. She kissed her with purpose and she kissed her with adoration and fear and apology.

"I think you're beautiful," Gail murmured on her lips. "I think you're strong." She ran her fingertips along Holly's neck and jaw and hair. "I think you're astounding. I think you have me wishing on rainbows and pennies and working on racking up karma points. I think we can adopt seventy-eight babies if you want. And thirty-three dogs and sixty-one cats and sixteen hamsters." Holly smiled at Gail's words. "And I'll make you a million peanut butter and jelly sandwiches of varying ratios whenever you hurt, in any way."

"It's been rough on both of us," Holly nodded. She tucked Gail's unruly hair behind her ear. It was growing long and wild and couldn't be bothered to be tamed by brushes. It was very much unlike Gail. "We haven't been doing the one thing we need to do, which is this." Holly held Gail's shirt tight on her chest, rumpling the collar into her fist. "You and me," she watched her hands holding. "Stop treating me like I'm dying." Gail nodded. "Stop trying to be Superwoman." Gail nodded again.

"I still don't want you to go to work today," Gail pursed her lips.

"Tough," Holly shrugged. "I feel good today. I want to go. And I think you need some Gail time."

"I don't-"

"Nope," Holly interrupted, covering Gail's mouth with her hand. Gail glared. "We've always had time to ourselves, and lately you've been like a shadow and I couldn't go anywhere. You need time to recharge from us, from cancer, and yes, I'll say it. It's not Voldemort." Gail mumbled behind Holly's hand in protest. "You haven't been alone in a long time. Have a drink at noon and play games all afternoon. I don't care. You don't even have to clean up. No chores, no nothing. Just... be you, Gail. Not the Gail you think I need."

Holly held her hand over Gail's mouth for a minute longer while the blonde brooded and threw daggers with her eyes. Holly didn't care. She was riding this honest train and it felt good. And as much as her girlfriend had worried and fretted over her, she realized that she had somehow gotten away from Holly, slipped under the radar and driven herself into a rut.

"I think you're beautiful," Gail said again, making eye contact and pulling Holly's hand down. "I think you are strong, even when you think you're weak. And I think you're allowed to hurt." With a tilt of her head, she kissed Holly's palm. "I'm going to be there, not matter what. Even if you somehow turn ugly." There it was. There it was, she grinned. Holly smiled and shook her head and tried not to laugh. "You better watch out when the doctor gives us the sex okay." Holly laughed now and tried to cover Gail's mouth again. "I'm serious. I'm going to come at you like a sexual cheetah," Gail wiggled her eyebrows and leaned over Holly. "I am respecting doctors orders. But once he lifts the sex ban and puts you back on the market, I'm going to gobble you up," Gail shook her head to avoid Holly's hands from trying to censor her while they both laughed.

It felt new and different and needed and safe and familiar, the laughing. The ease of it. The absolute need in this moment to find it once again. Gail could never make someone laugh, but she could be goofy for Holly. She _was_ goofy for Holly. She craved her laugh and smile. Most of the time she earned it on accident. Sometimes she earned it because she was being completely honest.

"We can't forget this," Holly whispered as she caught her breath. She ran her fingertips over Gail's cheeks, over her jaw, over her eyebrows, over her lips. She studied her girlfriend's smiling face and rosy cheeks. "We can't, okay?" she asked, licking her lips nervously. "This is the only way we're going to make it." Gail nodded. "Sexual cheetah." Holly grinned wide as she used the new term of endearment. Gail just nodded again and kissed her girlfriend, relieved for the first time in days.

* * *

"Listen, thank you for picking me up, but I can make it to the door, Dad," Holly complained as her father led her up the sidewalk to her house. He held the umbrella and had her bag on his shoulder, leaving her to hold simply his arm.

"A dad can take his daughter for a stroll," he defended himself. "I'm being chivalrous."

"Was Gail drunk or passing out from exhaustion when she called you?" Holly eyed him suspiciously. He just laughed. She held his arm a bit tighter, grateful for a few minutes with him.

Sometimes it was hard to spend time with her, and she knew it. Holly was like her mother. She didn't look like her as much as Lucy did. And she wasn't the holder of her treasured recipes like Sarah. But Holly had her mannerisms and personality, and for her father, that was almost the most difficult thing to be near. To see her smile, to hear her laugh, to she her hands move, it was a challenge. Holly knew that, and as much as she hated that it hurt her father, it was a reassuring connection to her mother when she always felt far away from her.

"Believe it or not, I called her," he puffed out his dad chest in his dad sweater. "I had a book I read when your mom was in the hospital. I thought she might want to try muddling through it to pass the time." For a second Holly stopped walking and her father followed suit. "It's raining, doll, let's get you inside before you're soaked."

Holly ignored his warning and put her arms around him, hugging him tightly as she dug her nose into his shoulder. It too him a moment, and despite juggling Holly's things, the father hugged his daughter as he closed his eyes. He might not understand why she was hugging him, but he wasn't going to complain or fight it at all.

"You are a wonderful man," Holly kissed his cheek after finally letting go. All he could do was follow her as she started to walk towards the house, with or without his umbrella.

As the father shook the umbrella under the porch roof, Holly paused warily at the barely open door. Gail never left the door unlocked, and she trained Holly to never leave the door open.

"Dad, look," Holly pointed with hushed tones. "Something's happened."

Dropping Holly's bag and umbrella on the steps, the father hushed Holly and pushed the door open widely. Holly peered in and felt her hand cover her slack-jawed mouth.

"I don't think you've been robbed," her father smiled and held the door open for her, nudging his head for her to go ahead.

Slowly, Holly's feet decided to make their way inside. But the house that she left was not the same one she was coming back to at all. Where she expected a quiet, maybe slightly messy place in the wake of Gail's free pass of an afternoon, instead she found flowers, everywhere. More specifically, sunflowers of various heights lined the hall and stairs. The living room was a field of them, as far as Holly could see. With her father right behind her, Holly crept deeper into the den until she found a welcomed, though surprising sight.

"What is this?" she looked all around still as she asked an awkwardly shifting Gail. "Did you know about this?" she turned to ask her father, though he was no where to be seen.

"I was going to take you to the cabin for my days off," Gail started, still feet away from Holly. "I've had it planned for months. Eleven months, to be exact," she informed Holly as she ran her sweaty and anxious hands along her thighs.

"Gail, did you do this?" Holly asked dumbly. The smile couldn't stop on her face, she was afraid it would rip right through her skin.

"No, wait, stop," Gail begged. "I've got this all... going... just let me..." She seemed to reset. And Holly watched with an amused smile. "I wanted to take you to that stop with the sunflowers because you said it was your favourite place in the world. But it's raining and it's kind of cold and we have an appointment tomorrow..." Gail rambled, off topic and her mouth growing dry.

"I think you bought all of the sunflowers in the city," Holly chuckled. Gail nodded and blushed awkwardly.

"Holly?" Gail asked, taking another step towards Holly. "I love you. I know I don't say it enough. But I love you so much." Holly watched Gail watch her for a moment before looking down at the sunflowers obscuring her feet. She took a deep breath. "When I was a kid, my mom told me that being a good cop was ninety percent luck and ten percent timing. And I always believed that when it came to life in general. It was definitely lucky that you stumbled into my crime scene, and it was the perfect timing because I was... I was someone that could never have imagined being this happy nearly five years later." Gail's breath shook in her lungs and came out anxious and antsy. "I was always okay with the lucky, but never the timing. I've been holding on to this," Gail removed the ring from her pocket and held it up, sneaking only a peak at Holly's face when she saw it. "I've looked at this, every morning in my work locker, for over a year now because I couldn't get the timing right. But lately, I just give up on making the timing perfect."

"Oh Gail," Holly furrowed her eyebrows and held her hands over her mouth as the oxygen left her lungs in surprise.

"I love you. I love everything about you. I love your nose and your eyes and your elbows and your knees and your scars and your dreams and your hair in the morning and your hurt and your strength and your smile and the person you make me think I can be if I just try a little bit harder, every day. I love your kindness and your compassion and your humour and your ears and your stupid dead body smell at the end of the day." It all came out in a rush and at such a speed that Gail couldn't contain it in the cage of her mouth. Her tongue and teeth were ahead of her brain. "I want forever. I want a forever with you." Gail watched Holly staring at the ring. She watched her glassy eyes look at her and see her and she felt tiny and terrified and hot, as if the room was a sauna and she couldn't breathe. "I never thought I'd be doing this. Do I have to get down on one knee... or can I just... I don't know." Holly's laugh burst past her hands, unable to contain itself at the spectacle of her girlfriend trying, so goddamn hard, to be everything she thought Holly could want.

With a step and lunge, Holly tossed her arms around Gail and hugged her neck so tight it left the blonde confused and a bit off kilter. She felt Holly's nose on her neck and her giggle in her chest before she could think to put her arms around her.

"You're insane, you know that, right?" Holly whispered as she smiled and kissed Gail's neck and jaw and chin and whatever she could reach from her tight hug. She wasn't letting go to move.

"It seems to work for me," Gail chuckled into Holly's hair on her shoulder. "That's a yes, right?" Only then did Holly slacken her grip and kiss Gail completely. She rooted her hands in her hair and held her for a kiss. She pushed her entire body into her girlfriend, she clung to her and gave her everything in that one second in the infinity of the universe.

"Yes," Holly pulled away, breathless and smiling still.

"Thank God," Gail sighed and leaned her forehead on Holly's. She closed her eyes and took the first genuine breath since she first started calling florists. "I don't ever want to have to do that again."

Holly just hugged her again, kissing her cheek and neck and digging her body into Gail's. Gail felt the ring in her palm, poking into her first, but she didn't care. She squeezed it, thankful that she was done with the speaking, thankful that Holly said yes. Thankful. Period.

"There's a kitchen full of people waiting to see if you said yes," Gail whispered as Holly wiped her cheek on her girlfriend's shoulder. She'd done the impossible. She'd gotten the cocky, ridiculously acerbic blonde from the crime scene to not only move in with her, but to want her forever. And if that wasn't a victory worthy of the history books, Holly wasn't sure what was. Fuck Gengis Khan and Napoleon and any of the Henry's in England. "They helped," Gail explained, pulling away slightly. She held up her palm with the ring in it. "But I picked this myself." There was a bit of pride in her voice. "And I don't think they'll believe me if you don't try it on."

As soon as it was slipped on, Holly kissed Gail again. She didn't want to stop. She wanted to tell her that what she did was the bravest thing she'd ever seen, that she knew it was impossible for Gail to do, but she'd done it. She wanted to thank her, to tell her that it wasn't necessary, to tell her that it was perfect. But Holly gave up on words and she knew Gail had used all of hers for the day. So she kissed her like she was dying.


	8. Chapter 8

_So itʼs storming on the lake_  
_Little waves our bodies break._

"I'm going to kill her," Gail grumbled as the morning sunlight of her bedroom. With a forceful yank she slammed the pillow over her hears and grumbled her complaints at the noise once again.

"Mmm, shhhh," Holly pulled her closer and dug her nose into the base of Gail's neck, sneaking beneath the pillow slightly with her. "A few more hours."

Another loud noise came from downstairs and Gail moaned in complaint once more. She felt Holly's arms tighten around her in response and her lips on her shoulder. Yet Gail still dug her head into the bed and fought waking up on her first true day off in a long time. She had plans for this day. Lazy, naked plans with her girlfriend. Lazy, naked, and very dirty plans that involved not leaving this bed, and not letting Holly leave because this was normalcy, and this is what she craved. At least before it all went topsy turvy again tomorrow.

Loud voices came up through the floor and Holly growled from the base of her throat.

"It's _your _sister," Gail complained, arching her back and pulling Holly over her like a sweater. It was accusatory and awake. With another humph Gail placed her head atop the pillow that was failing at blotting out the sounds. Her hair stuck up and all over her eyes.

"Your sister now, too," Holly shook her head and tried to hide in Gail's shoulders. She loved Gail's back. She loved the curves and the protrusions and the feeling of muscles under skin. She loved the smell of her skin in the morning with that bit of sunlight warming the shirt and skin. Holly swore she could smell sunshine. That's what it smelled like, warm and soft and barely there on Gail's shoulders and spine. Gail had strong shoulders and they were not especially muscular, but they were so strong and Holly loved feeling her shoulder blades moving through the skin, to hear her lungs whooshing with each breath.

"Not yet," Gail sassed. Though she was grumpy and sore for being woken harshly by their newest housemate, Gail still kissed Holly's palm and fiddled with the ring on her finger. In the many months of looking at it in her locker, she never thought she'd actually see it on its intended location. Now it was her favourite thing to play with at all times. She played with it anxiously when she held Holly's hand. She played with it at the first chemo session. For hours, she played games and talked to Holly and asked questions and mostly, she held her hand and played with the ring. When Holly was sleeping and sweating and sick in the week after, Gail laid at night in a similar position and played with it while wiping her forehead and whispering quiet things to her sleeping girlfriend.

With the sun shining a summer morning through the blinds, Gail closed her eyes and put Holly's hands over her eyes and held them there. She felt Holly shift. She kissed Holly's wrist. For just a moment Gail allowed herself to hide under Holly's hands like she used to when she was a kid and afraid of anything at all. She covered her eyes and tried to forget about the day and just remember the exact weight of Holly's hands and the smell of the sun on the sheets.

"Why did we agree to let her stay?" Gail complained after another noise downstairs.

"Because she's family and you got her that internship," Holly explained.

"Worst decision of my life," the blonde grumbled, finally stretching and rolling over to meet her girlfriend, or fiancée for the day. That title felt uncomfortable in her head, awkward and not precise.

"Good morning," Holly kissed her sleepy lips. She smiled and moved to her girlfriend's neck, going to work on making her a morning person. Gail sighed and tilted her head as Holly slithered against her body. Lithe and warm, Holly moved to make Gail forget the inconsiderate house guest. She moved to remind herself that things wouldn't be the same in a few days and she had this moment.

"I'm going to kill your sister," Gail repeated.

"That's illegal, officer," Holly whispered, her breath hot and humid and tempestuous on Gail's neck. Holly moved slowly, putting pressure from her hips on Gail's hips. Gail swallowed and felt her eyes roll back as she felt Holly's lips. There was a slight grumble at the back of Gail's throat, uncontrolled and base. Holly's hands slipped under Gail's shirt, sneaky and eager and restrained. Gail's legs pressed together tightly as Holly shuffled their hips slowly.

A dull clamour rolled downstairs and Gail tossed her head back.

"I'm definitely going to kill her," she pulled away, angry and scowling.

"I'll help," Holly sighed.

"She has to go, Hol," Gail complained. "It is really hard to... you know..." Gail's eyebrows lifted and she nodded her head to fill in the words. "She is putting a damper on our time together."

"I can't kick her out because she's interrupting our..._time_," Holly laughed. "It's only for the summer."

"Til the summer turns into the school year, and yeah, sure, why would you pay for an apartment, right?" Gail was talking with her hands in the air as she laid on her back. Her eyes were far away and her frown was nearly permanent. "And then it's Hey, Annie, you're family, just make yourself at home. Make all the noise you want. Use all of my shampoo so I don't have any when I shower, invite your stupid friends over with their stupid opinions and stupid faces, and eat all of my snacks and steal all of my donuts that I was saving! And why not interrupt sex-on-the-sofa Saturday, while you're at it. And yeah, sure, we don't need privacy, knock on our door whenever you want! Oh yeah, sure! We love it when your boyfriend comes over and we are reminded how squeaky that spare bedroom mattress is!"

"You would have someone to ride to work with," Holly shrugged, knowing full well that she wasn't helping the situation at all. With a loud growl and exhale of all the air in her lungs Gail got out of bed in a huff. "Gail, come on. It's just for summer. She's getting good experience shadowing Traci, and you're helping my sister on her quest to be a lawyer."

"Right. Just what the world needs; another one of those." Gail ran her hand up her neck and through her hair, pulling at it in a grumping fashion. She got up with purpose, to do something, to go downstairs and yell. To passive aggressively decimate Holly's sister. But she just couldn't. She wanted to be in bed still. She wanted her quiet morning.

"I'm kidding," Holly crawled to the end of the bed towards her girlfriend.

"I wanted to stay in bed all day before..."

"Chemo," Holly offered. "You can say it."

"Your sister is ruining my moves," Gail sighed. "I can't concentrate. She's always around. Always smiling and helpful and just horrible."

"I like having her here," Holly tried again. "Remember last time I had chemo? It was rough, on you, and having another set of hands won't hurt. Plus she wants to help, so bad. And you can't take anymore time off of work." With a slow move of her hand, Holly reached up and rubbed Gail's shoulders. She knew she was playing dirty. But she liked playing that way because of how flustered it made Gail, because of how much Gail hated to agree with her and went along begrudgingly. "I will talk with her," Holly promised, slinking along her girlfriend's pouty body.

"Don't use your cancer eyes on me," Gail scowled. "That's not fair." Holly smiled and rubbed Gail's shoulders, rubbed her neck, pulled her ear lobes, traced her jaw. "And don't use your... whatever... sexy eye thing with the touching and the... things... and the whispers and the ugh." Gail shook her head and looked skeptically at Holly.

"I'm not doing anything," Holly promised, running her fingernails along Gail's neck, soft and into her hair, soothing the grumpiness out of her. There was more noise downstairs and she felt Gail stiffen. "Tonight, after dinner, it's you and me and this bed and all of my energy that will be drained after my appointment tomorrow."

"Well, you really sell it," Gail sighed.

"Tonight," Holly stood up taller on her knees. Her arms weighed heavy on Gail's shoulders. "I will adequately thank you." Holly kissed Gail, soft and promising and easily made into more if she chose. "For letting my sister live here for the summer." Holly played with the back of Gail's hair. "I'll do that thing," she whispered, trailing her cheek along Gail's cheek. "With my tongue." Gail swallowed, harsh and rough as her throat grew dry and her eyes closed of their own vocation. Softly Holly kissed Gail's neck, bit below her jaw. "And anything else." She felt Gail's hands on her hips. "You can dream up." Gail squeezed her as she kissed her again, dragging her lips on her lips. She pulled on Gail's lips, she tasted her and fought pulling her back into bed now.

"Anything?" Gail croaked, body shivering.

"Anything," Holly nodded, looking down as her hands slid to the hem of Gail's shirt. Holly dragged her finger through the top of her sweatpants. "Many, many times." The look Holly gave her was deadly, and Gail knew it. Her stomach was knotted and she hadn't breathed in too long, but her lungs weren't going to do it anytime soon.

"Let's start now," Gail leaned forward slightly. Holly slipped her hand into Gail's sweats.

A loud few knocks on the door made Holly retract her hand quickly, and Gail, legs spread and mouth huffing, lofted her head on Holly's shoulder.

"I'm going to kill her!" Gail yelled, stalking towards the door.

* * *

"Don't forget, your parents are coming over for dinner," Holly reminded her still agitated girlfriend as she started to pull her shoes on by the steps. There was the expected grumble and moan of complaint. Holly smiled to herself.

"Can't we cancel?" Gail pinched the spot between her eyes, a headache for the day already starting from her morning of frustration.

"Your mom sounded excited, and I don't want to disappoint," Holly tried another tactic. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Well, you better get used to it if you're going to be a Peck," Gail sighed. "I'm going to run errands."

When she turned back to her girlfriend, newspaper fanned out on her legs in her favourite chair by the window, Gail was surprised to see Holly smiling in her little reading nook.

"A Peck, huh?" Holly asked, head cocked and amused. Gail just shrugged and rolled her eyes, not understanding Holly's amusement.

"Yes, Stewart. A Peck. You can gain some real Peck points by getting us out of dinner. We've all done it. Cough Cough I'm sick. Cough Cough I have cancer." Her words were so matter-of-fact that it was almost as if she didn't realize what she was saying. Holly watched her shake her head, disinterested and barely hanging onto the conversation.

"Well, as a Stewart, I don't disappoint, so don't forget that your parents are coming over," Holly looked down at her paper victorious for some reason.

"You promised me sex!" Gail said, stomping her foot. "You promised me amazing, dirty sex! Tonight! I haven't had sex in a month!" She wasn't yelling at Holly, but she was yelling and filling the apartment with her noise and frustration. "Sex!" she held her hands up only to drop them at her sides. "You use your evil sex powers on me and we get interrupted... and now! No Sex! And my parents! That's great foreplay."

"I broke you, didn't I?" Holly asked sheepishly.

"Whose shouting about sex?" Annie came into the living room. Gail gestured wildly at her, both arms extending and showcasing the youngest Stewart sister. Gail grunted to Holly's amusement.

"I give up!" Gail waved her hands. "I'm going out. I will not be home until later."

"For dinner," Holly called.

"For whenever I want!" Gail retorted.

"Oh! What are we doing for dinner?" Annie asked, grinning as she leaned against the bookshelf in the hall.

"Take care of this, Stewart!" Gail shouted as she made her way to the door, yanking it open. "I am a cheetah! I am a fucking cheetah and I am going crazy."

The door closed behind her with a loud snap. From outside, Gail's voice could be heard, still huffing and puffing. Holly turned in the chair in the window and watched her blonde yank open the car door in the driveway. She couldn't help but smile at the scene and theatrics. Gail was earnest in her complaints, and she meant every word and every waving, flailing motion of her frustration, which made the show even more entertaining. Holly learned that it was easier to watch and let it blow over. The tantrum was more fun to watch when she figured out that it was all smoke.

"Aren't you worried about that?" her sister asked, slightly alarmed at the show.

"Nah," Holly shrugged. "She called me a Peck. She's just crabby."

"Geeze," Annie shook her head.

"Yeah. You have to be out of here tonight," Holly looked back down at her paper.

* * *

It was the small talk that was killing her. Gail was sure of it as she swirled her wine around in its glass and watced it slosh against the sides. It was the entire day as a whole that left Gail in less than sunny disposition.

"It's a guy, over on Vermont Street," Holly explained. "Gail loves it there, right?"

"Sorry?" Gail looked up at the table finally. Her mother and father stared back at her, waiting for her input. Holly's sister and brother grinned, enjoying the first real mingling meal between the two families. Annie was relieved and finally enjoying dinner because her turn at being grilled was over and Elaine Peck was adequately impressed by her ambition to be a prosecutor with the city and liked her internship. They spoke of more ways to get involved. It drove Gail crazy how much she taunted the little sister to be wary of her mother, and then her mother was on her best behaviour.

"Your mom was asking about the teas you get for me," Holly explained, the valleys forming on her forehead as she gave Gail the 'behave-yourself' look. "They've been really helpful. And the guy who owns the place, he makes them, and he's so sweet."

"Amir," Gail added. "He's my best friend." The table stared at her to attempt to determine the level of sarcasm present in her statement. The lack of any led them to think irony was the only plausible explanation.

"And you'll go tomorrow?" Elaine turned to Holly after eyeing her daughter. "How many more?"

"Four more, including tomorrow," Holly nodded. Gail took a large gulp from her wine glass and reached to fill it again.

"I ran errands today, and I got tea blends specially made," Gail said. "Do you know how he does it?" she finished pouring. "I gave him a list of Holly's drugs, and I talk to him. I talk to him almost every day. And he just makes it. He makes it to combat things I don't even know will happen. Do you know how?" she asked again. "His sister went through it."

There was a quiet at the table. Gail looked back at her glass, suddenly feeling more and more despondent.

"He's been a wonderful, amazing addition to our network of support," Holly assured Gail. She ran her hand along Gail's shoulders and kept her arm on the back of her chair. "He's a magician. And I know I would be in a lot more pain without him."

"And these are just teas?" Elaine asked.

"Yeah," Gail nodded. "All I got is tea."

"Have you thought about the wedding?" Holly's brother piped up. Both girls looked at him with death glares.

"Yes, of course, the wedding," Elaine swallowed and tried not to look pained. It was proving difficult, even for her in the face of it all, to remain completely committed to her daughter's life. She couldn't rightly protest with Holly's sickness. She wasn't against Holly or her daughter dating her, but the idea of a wedding was fanciful to her.

"We haven't thought of it," Holly quickly came to the defensive. The dinner conversation had luckily been tempered and she'd been able to control the flow of it. Gail had been nice enough to show up for dinner and put on the face of a host, Holly did her duty of fielding the hard and pointed questions.

"I want to have sunflowers," Gail answered.

"Well that's something," Elaine offered.

"There's the lakeshore by the cabin," Annie offered. "Our family has a cabin we've been going to for generations. And there is a sunflower farm where Holly and Lucy used to run away to sometimes."

"The lake could be nice," Elain nodded in agreement. "Wasn't your brother's place up there somewhere?" she asked her husband. The conversation was off and running and Gail looked victoriously at Matty. He rolled his eyes and conceded defeat.

"You okay?" Holly leaned over and asked Gail discreetly while the table planned their dream wedding. Gail smiled back at her.

"I am great," she promised, leaning forward and kissing Holly's cheek.

"My sister is spending the night at Lucy's," Holly whispered. Gail grinned again and took another sip from her wine.

"Get rid of them, now," Gail chuckled with a suggestion.

"I love you, you know that, right?" Holly stared at Gail as if she was seeing her for the first time and worried she actually didn't know.

"Yeah," Gail nodded, relaxing slightly. Holly rubbed her knee under the table.

"Have you at least thought about a date?" Elaine interrupted the quiet murmuring of the two in question. Again the eyes were all on them.

"No," Gail said quickly. "Not at all. It took me over a year to ask her, so on that timeline we should have a date nailed down sometime next May."

"That means the wedding would be in about three Augusts from now or so," Holly added with a grin. "But we didn't decide to have a nice family dinner to discuss wedding plans. I think we can both agree that it won't be until after I... well... you know..."

"Beat cancer," Gail added.

"Yes," Holly nodded, grateful that her girlfriend said the world. "I really wanted to spend my last meal before a week of nausea and exhaustion and this weird, metallic taste in my mouth... I wanted to spend it having a family dinner because it's been too long."

"The union of the Stewarts and Pecks," Annie held up her glass.

"That sounds like a dynasty," Matty held up his.

"As a soon-to-be Peck, I am very excited that this is the first in a dinner of many," Holly added hers. Gail watched her mother searching Holly and she watched her father chuckle a little behind his beard before lifting his glass as well. He didn't look up at Gail, but he smiled more than she could remember seeing in a long time. It wasn't much, but it was there.

"Peck," Elaine repeated. "Peck?" she asked, looking at Gail. Gail gave her a small smile and shrug. "A Peck superintendent, chief, detective, officer, and pathologist. It's practically a sitcom." Gail watched her mother chuckle at herself as everyone drank from their glasses.

"I mean, I'll keep my name for professional purposes," Holly started to mumble. "No sense changing my medical certification. But in spirit, or on paper, legally, yeah, I guess-"

"Shh, let her have it," Gail quieted the rambling. "I think you just broke my mom, Stewart." The table laughed and Elaine continued to dream.

Elaine was smiling widely and her eyes were distant and when she finally looked at her daughter and her girlfriend, or fiancée, Gail had that half smile on her face, that ease about her, shoulder's wide, upright, chin balanced precariously on her palm. It was a Gail that was simply Gail, and Elaine was slightly surprised to see it. And as Gail laughed at something Holly's sister said and nudged Holly with her shoulder, Elaine stared at her, wonderfully surprised that her daughter wanted to stay a Peck, after all; pleasantly surprised that Holly said the name with a sense of pride that she never thought her daughter would inspire.

* * *

"Yeah, okay, wow," Gail swallowed and inhaled as if her life depended on it. Her lungs danced beneath their cage trying to find some normal rhythm but failing terribly as her body continued to occasionally tremble. She couldn't form a sentence, but words came out when she thought of them.

Holly simply smiled and kissed the inside of her thigh and then her hip. She watched Gail shake her head slightly and root her hand in her hair for a moment before turning her barely open eyes upon her girlfriend. Often Holly tried to figure out how to describe those exact eyes. But often they were different things at different moments. Just a few minutes ago, they were deep blue, blue like waves smashing rocks to pieces for eras. Earlier they had been blue like a flower petal is blue in the sun, light and velvety and soft. This morning they had been map blue, the maps in atlases kind of fabricated water blue. Right now, they were like she had entire skies in her head, the white-blue of noonday.

With a small adjustment, Holly found herself blanketed across Gail's hips, fingers laced and providing a pillow for her chin over her bellybutton. She felt Gail's thighs adjust and softly squeeze her own ribs.

"It's nearly four in the morning," Gail said, finally meeting Holly's eyes.

"You're not sleepy are you?"

"Exhausted," Gail grinned. "But not sleepy."

Gail ran her hand through Holly's hair, settling on playing with an end between her fingers. Holly leaned forward and kissed between her ribs before turning her head and resting her cheek on Gail's chest. Her hands ran along the bony protrusions of her sides.

"We have to find you a ring," Holly thought out loud, playing with Gail's free hand.

"I can't wear them at work," Gail tried.

"I can't wear mine either, but it doesn't matter."

"I can't even think straight right now," Gail grinned. "Where'd you learn to do that..."

"Internet," Holly lied, kissing the warm, soft skin below her breast. She earned a chuckle that she felt in her skin.

"Did you see how happy my mom was tonight?" Gail tucked her hands behind her head.

"She practically planned our wedding."

"She did. She didn't even look too terrified of it."

"See? Dinner wasn't so bad."

"It was terrible," Gail complained. "We could have been in bed hours earlier." Holly just laughed and adjusted her arms, squeezing Gail's waist. There was no where else on the planet she would rather be in this moment.

"I think you can agree that good things come to those who wait."

In the quiet of the late night, or earliest morning, Holly ran her fingers along Gail's thighs. She kissed what she could, and she felt her girlfriend's fingers softly combing through her hair. It was a far cry from where she would be once the sun came up and she would be injected with chemicals that would make her not very much fun to be around. But Gail would be there, in the same spot in bed tomorrow night, clad in those soft sweats and shirt that Holly loved to hold onto at night. And instead of the sexy naked skin, she would be everything that Holly needed.

"You nervous about tomorrow?" Gail asked quietly.

"No way," Holly shook her head and looked up at Gail again. "It's not fun, but it makes me better. And I like that."

"I'm nervous," Gail confessed.

"I know, love."

"You know, my mom told me that she wasn't surprised I didn't take that promotion with Guns and Gangs. And she said it so matter of a fact, that it was like she forgotten how happy it made her that I drafted an amazing new Peck to the line up."

"That sounds like her," Holly mumbled. She felt Gail's fingernails on her back as she lifted herself and slunk closer. She kissed Gail's chest and moved to her collar bones. She hadn't finished thanking her. She hadn't finished telling her tiny things that led to her arching back and hands rooted in sheets.

"She said I was sacrificing," Gail furrowed her brow at the word. Holly ran her fingers along the furrow burrowed in her girlfriend's eyes. "It doesn't feel like a sacrifice. It's not one. It made me really mad."

"I'm sorry."

"I like our house," Gail said, making eye contact with Holly. "I like our friends. Not so much yours. But its whatever." Holly smiled a small smile. "I love you. I love my job. I love me. I can even tolerate my mother. I just... It's not a sacrifice to want to keep all of that."

"It's brave," Holly decided for her.

"No, it's practical."

"You do know that I'm doing really well, don't you?" Holly asked, moving her legs to straddle Gail's waist. She pulled away and sat up straight so that Gail's hands fell to her hip and palm fell to her thighs.

"Yes," Gail nodded. She stared at the scar for a moment before getting enough courage to run her thumb along it. She felt Holly's muscles contract under her touch. "And I am very happy." Her fingers dropped slightly, following the joint of her hip with a smile that bordered on a naughty child who got away with sneaking candy. "So, Stewart, are you sleepy?"

Holly didn't speak. She swallowed the bowling ball that formed in her throat at the subtle movements of Gail's fingers. She shook her head and leaned forward, anchoring her hands on either side of Gail's head. The blonde watched her back arch and hips move, wanting more. Instead Gail played.

"We have three hours until we have to get ready for your appointment," Gail observed. Holly bit her lip and nodded. "Let's use every minute of guest-free house while we can."


	9. Chapter 9

_Our love is a star_  
_Sure some hazardry._

"I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't," Gail chanted as she cleared her gun in the ammunition room. The metallic click assured her she could continue with her routine. "You know that I would if I could, but I can't," she warned with those eyes that simply reinforced her point.

"I need you, Peck. I wouldn't ask if I could go to anyone else." With a sigh and shake of her head, Gail paused as she went to remove her radio from her shoulder. For a second she almost wanted to give in to the green eyes and crooked nose. But then Connolly smiled as if he was gaining ground and Gail had to slam her foot down on the brakes. She didn't want to even allow herself one second of actual considering. That would be treacherous.

"I can't, James," she muttered, shaking her head and pulling on her radio once again. "I mean it," she said as he went to open his mouth again. "Holly is at her last chemo session as we speak." Gail turned and put her equipment away. When she turned back she looked at the lanky partner she once had as he leaned against the door, shoulders hunched and desperate. His hair was shorter now, shaved tight and close, no longer a shock of waving red all over the place, though his chin and cheeks sported a bit more growth than the clean kept face she was used to having. "I can't leave for an indeterminable amount of time to some crazy undercover thing. Not right now."

"Just a few weeks," he tried, following as she rolled her eyes and made her way to the locker room. "I just need a few weeks, and you can leave after we get in."

"A few weeks away from my _wife,_ who I am waiting to hear how she is doing after nearly six months of treatment?" Gail stopped in the middle of the hall as he kept talking about specifics. A few weeks sounded dreadful.

She suddenly realized that it had only been a year since she woke up in the hospital after the end of her last undercover assignment. Just under an entire year, and it felt like a lifetime ago, like it happened to someone else, like she remembered it like a movie, flashes of the plot and the finale and then credits. Nothing else. A year, and everything was different. She was different. A year ago she came home, bruised and broken. A few months after that Holly was out of surgery and having her first session. A month later, she was married. And now... just a year after her last assignment, Gail had survived the most exhausting year of her life. And it happened without her even noticing.

Time is a son of a bitch.

"I trust you," the tall, ridiculously handsome detective tried again, this time charming and sweetly pleading. "I know you miss it. We did so good together. I don't now if I can trust anyone else. And I need someone I can trust."

"I don't even wish I could do it. I can't," she shrugged. "I'm really sorry." In an attempt at sincerity she patted his arm and checked her watch discreetly.

"Gail..."

"I won't do that to Holly again, and I wouldn't be any use to you, bud." Gail shook her head and tried to smile. "My head would be here, wondering if she's sick, wondering how her check ups are going, worrying about her white blood cells and beating myself up because I wouldn't know every milligram of medication and their ridiculous names. I wouldn't be there, I would be here, missing out of so many things. I can't do it. I'm not going away."

"Gail, this is... this is big and serious and I don't think anyone else can do it," he crossed his arms and stared at her, slightly afraid, slightly worried, completely begging. "I know I didn't give you much time, but I need to know. There's no going back. This is your last chance."

"It's been three months of watching Holly be pumped full of chemicals, losing her hair, sick, sleeping all day sometimes, having no appetite, wondering how many more days I had, and today is her last round. Today it is all over, at least for now. I'm not going to miss it. And I'm not going to miss the doctor telling her that she's cured, and I'm not going to miss one centimetre of hair growing back, and I am not going to miss the day she goes back to work, and I'm not going to miss any of it."

Connolly stared back at her and set his jaw, not wanting to admit that she had a point, not wanting to admit that there was a reason only certain people could do undercover. Gail was ruined from it from now on, and he realized he wouldn't have her as a partner, at least not like they had it, ever again. He stared at her and wondered how much longer he could be the type of person that was good at it.

"Tell Holly I'm glad she's feeling better," he smiled and kissed Gail's cheek in defeat. "And let me know if you change your mind."

"Be safe, alright," Gail squeezed his shoulder. He just nodded.

"You know, I never know what to get anyone for a wedding present," he called as Gail made her way to change. If her watch was right, she had only a few minutes to make it to the hospital.

"You're three months late!"

"Still."

"Liquor is always a safe bet," Gail turned and smiled, leaving him standing in the hall as the division swirled about their business. "Or a toaster. Ours is going bad. Burns my bagels."

As he watched Gail retreat down the hall and disappear into the locker room, James decided that he was going to find the best toaster on the planet for her. Because he had been a maid of honour and that was what maids of honour did.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" James asked, adjusting his tie in the mirror. "I think it's my duty to try to talk you out of it."

"I think it fits us," Gail nodded, trying to swallow as she tied her own beside him. "Spur of the moment and barely put together properly. It is very us. My mom always said it took a blowtorch to light a fire under me.""

"Being afraid isn't a good reason to get married," Steve intervened, swatting away at Gail's hands as she fumbled and scowled.

"It's the only reason I'll ever have for it," she returned, tugging on her collar as he adjusted the offensive bow.

"She isn't dying," Traci tried, pushing Steve out of the way. The mirror couldn't hold more than two of them at a time, in the back closet turned changing room.

"Almost!" Gail yelped as Traci smoothed her shoulders and collar once more from her nervous tugging and pulling. "She's been in the hospital for a week. You didn't see her... You didn't find her. She... No. She doesn't want to wait, and I can give her whatever she wants. It will make her better. It has to."

There was a quiet in the small room with none of the wedding party able to think of a reason to talk Gail out of it. They all supported her and wanted her to be happy, and after seeing her for the past few days that Holly was in her hospital bed they knew that even if they had a legitimate reason, they wouldn't say it.

"You look really pretty," Traci tried, adjusting her own tie before turning her attention back to her own husbands. Gail grinned and leaned against the chairs that were in the storage room.

In less than thirty-six hours, it had somehow come together, this ragtag wedding, that for the first second in over a day, Gail took a breath and thought about the endeavour she was about to embark upon. It rattled her. Her nerves were raw and she was acting on impulse because she couldn't stand to sit by a hospital bed and be so ineffective.

"So are you ready?" James nudged her slightly. She shook her head and smiled wider. "Well," he started, reaching into his jacket. "I can give you a bit of courage." A flask appeared.

"Best maid of honour," Steve clapped his hands together, looking for something to hold the liquor.

"I would have thrown one hell of a bachelorette party, I know that," James smiled. "When you have your real wedding." Traci was the victorious one who found old pill dispensary cups.

"This is my real wedding," Gail insisted, taking her cup. "The one that comes later, that's the show one. With the people I don't really like and the godawful dancing and my mother driving me crazy with details. And oh, God, the speeches."

"Well, in any case, there will be one amazing night for you and all of us," James informed her as he carefully poured. "I'm not sure what exactly I'm supposed to do, as the maid of honour, but I brought liquor, got you here on time, and I guess I should tell you that you look beautiful. How was that?" Traci and Gail nodded.

"As a married man and your big brother, I feel it is my duty to give you at least a bit of advice on your wedding day," Steve started. "I can honestly say, that after today, nothing will be the same. You think she's your best friend now, but it gets better. And you think you couldn't possibly love her more, but you will. You think there isn't anything you won't do for her, and it becomes more and more true. You have a duty, you have a responsibility, and most importantly, you will never be the same." Traci gave him a small smile as her cup was filled. "I think you will be okay. I think you and Holly will be okay."

"Thank you guys," Gail lifted her cup. "It means a lot that you're here and could take part in it with me. And I've been working real hard at being grateful, lately. I'm so nervous I will probably throw this up, but I'm thankful for this moment, with you all." With a weak smile Gail lifted her glass a bit more before bringing it to her lips and drinking the liquid down until it burned a hole right into her belly.

"Let's get you out there, before you get cold feet," James decided, tucking his flask back into his pocket. Steve clapped his hands on his sisters shoulders and rubbed harshly.

With one breath of resigned finality, Gail allowed herself to be steered into the small chapel. A small clamour of applause rang out and Gail blushed before going pale and tugging once again at her collar. It was stifling and a noose.

"Lookin' snazzy, Peck!" Oliver called from a few rows back. Gail chanced only a quick look at the small bit of people who made it on such short notice. She wasn't sure she knew that many people, or that they had all been in one place at one time. Her friends from work, a few nurses she liked at the hospital, Holly's family, the kids running through the empty pews. The small congregation of the people she loved filled no more than half of the already tiny chapel, but still she felt grateful.

"You look very handsome, honey," her mother stood from her pew when Gail went to hug her. She couldn't decide if it was a dig or not, so she left it go. Elaine straightened her tie once again. "We are having dinner put together at the house after, just so you know. It was short notice, but I managed to get some things set up," she informed her daughter. "Not that you even gave me much warning. I could have done something nicer." Gail was grateful again since she hadn't planned past this moment, so she shook her head to get her mom to stop talking. "I am very happy that you are who you are," the mother explained, staring at her fingers that worked on fixing a not stray hair, but needed to remain busy. "You will make an amazing wife. And Holly is a welcomed member of this family."

"Just admit I did better than Steve," Gail leaned forward, teasing her mother so both could avoid a touching moment. "A doctor, Mom. That's kind of impressive." Elaine stifled her smile.

"You're not just doing this because you're afraid she'll..."

"No," Gail shook her head adamantly. "I love her."

"If you're sure."

"When she told me what could happen..." Gail sighed. "The first thing I thought of, Mom, was that I can't imagine a world where she doesn't exist. I can't imagine one day without her. If that's not enough, then I'll never get married."

"It takes a lot to be married."

"Yeah, well, I'm not afraid of anything after the year we've had," Gail grinned.

"Get up there," Elaine nudged her head after searching her daughter's face. With a small nod Gail took the few steps back to the pulpit.

The minutes felt like hours and Gail stared at her feet and tried not to shuffle so much. Her brother nudged her. James patted her back. Traci said calming things. She was very grateful for the team she assembled. Deep down she was getting married because she was afraid Holly would die. She'd been afraid for so long. But it wasn't just that. She was getting married because it mattered to Holly. All of it did. And she didn't care at all about it. Holly was the one who dreamed of weddings and loved them and she said they had been lucky for them. So Gail was trying to summon the last bit of luck she could from a wedding, and hoping that her own would save Holly, as ridiculous as it sounded.

"She's going to take your breath away, Peck," James leaned close to her ear after sneaking a peak at the arrival of the other bride. Gail swallowed and was afraid to turn around. Not because she didn't want to see Holly, but because she needed just a few more seconds of praying that this would work. She was out of ideas.

* * *

It was the needles that she still hadn't grown used to still. They made her uncomfortable during her residency and they made her uncomfortable now. Dead bodies were much easier to handle, but watching the sliver of metal slide in and out of her own veins, pumping things into her blood, it made Holly squeamish and rightfully so, in her own opinion.

"How's it going?" Dr. Webb pulled up a stool beside Holly's chair. He smiled at her before flipping through his folder and her charts.

"Oh, you know," Holly winced as she adjusted slightly. "I'm alive." The doctor tried to hide his small smile. "How do I look?"

"It looks good," he nodded, flipping and scanning once again. "I heard you got married since the last time I saw you, Mrs. Peck?"

"I have't seen you in a while then," Holly looked around the room, unable to watch him worrying over her charts and the numbers that defined who she was in his eyes. "Three months married tomorrow," she held up her hand with the ring. "I tricked her into it with my cancer eyes. But I think she'll stay around if they every wear out and just become normal eyes."

"Congratulations and best wishes," he nodded graciously.

"Thank you, maybe you'll be invited to the second wedding."

"I hope so. I hope I can have good news for you, too, soon."

"Don't tease me, it's not nice," Holly adjusted again as he closed the chart.

"I like where your levels are," he folded his hands. "I like what I'm seeing and if you're telling the truth, I like how you're feeling. I need blood work and scans, so can you do that today?"

"Yeah, sure," Holly was smiling too big.

"I told you I had a plan, didn't I?" he returned her smile and patted her knee. "I'm going to order these tests. And I will see you next week."

"Thank you so much," Holly pulled him in as he stood up and hugged him. Reluctantly he let himself be hugged.

After he left, Holly looked back at the needles in her arms and didn't feel any less bothered by it. She did find a new kind of thankfulness in seeing it though, in knowing what it had done for her. She didn't want to get her hopes up because that would just hurt worse. But there had been something magic about weddings and maybe that was what did it. Maybe it was Gail and her constant worrying and tea runs and being so thoughtful it left Holly knowing full well that she would never be able to pay her back, but she was going to take the rest of her life trying, however long that was.

The last few hours waned and Holly found herself, for the first time, antsy for her blood draw and scans. Though she hated the confining tube and the whirring it made, she was eager, today. She was eager for something good to tell her wife.

* * *

"I'm late, I'm late, I know," Gail swooped into the waiting room in a flurry. "I'm sorry."

"You're right on time," Holly smiled, putting down her magazine as her wife kissed her temple and took the seat beside her.

"How was it?" the blonde asked as she adjusted the beanie firmly in its place on the doctor's head. There was scarcely a moment that she wasn't wearing it, and Gail had gotten good at making sure it stayed in place; a nervous tick that worried fingers did to show they cared but couldn't find words to say it.

"Good," Holly smiled again, this one sadder. "I did a couple scans after, and I have to come back in a few days."

"But you're... you're... you know?" Gail tried not to sound so eager, but this was one word neither could utter, and it was so close she could nearly taste it, sweet and ripe on her lips, she toyed with it against the roof of her mouth.

"They're not sure yet," Holly shrugged.

"Okay, alright, no problem," Gail nodded, slipping her arm around her. She did her best to hide the disappointment at not hearing the word she wanted. "How are you feeling?" Gail leaned forward slightly and fiddled with her own fingers anxiously.

"Can't complain," Holly lied. Her head was pounding and her joints ached something awful, like someone was scraping them from the inside. Again Gail kissed her temple, feeling the wool of her hat on her lips.

"I thought today might be a more climactic," Gail confessed with a sigh. Holly chuckled and rubbed her wife's knee with her thumb.

"Apparently I don't get the 'Cancer-free' ribbon and free pizza coupon just yet."

"Free pizza?" Gail exclaimed. "Well it was all worth it then, right?"

"There's that to look forward to, I guess," Holly smiled and let Gail's forehead rest on her shoulder.

For a few minutes they sat in the waiting room seats, surrounded by the familiar mauve that had become so common and familiar it almost passed by unrecognizably. Holly slowly stroked Gail's knee and Gail lolled her head on her wife's shoulder, finally away from the day at work and finally done with these appointments. Though it wasn't confirmed, it felt like a small victory they couldn't celebrate.

"Alright, wife, I think it's my duty to get you home," Gail finally decided after catching her breath from the day.

"I'm exhausted," Holly confessed. She never liked to admit it, and she rarely did, and Gail took notice.

"So now we wait?" Gail asked as they made their way to the car. Once the doors of the hospital closed behind them it was a silent agreement to not bring up what occured within, at least not unless it was vital. In the last few steps, Gail tried to figure out what came now, and how she could help Holly get that ribbon.

"Yes. Now we wait."

The doors to the hospital closed and sealed off the hermetically calibrated and sterile air, and instead left them in the evening air of the real world.

"Let's go to bed," Gail decided. It was safe there. It was quiet and good.

"Yes please."

* * *

Gail felt like she was on fire. She was burning alive in her dream until she woke up and realized she was still on fire.

"Hol, baby," she cooed as she woke and felt the feverish skin beside her. Sleepy and barely cognizant, Gail rubbed her eyes and sat up slightly in bed. Holly didn't wake, but simply curled into the blanket a little more. "Holly, hey," Gail tried again, placing her hand on her wife's back. Her shirt was soaked clear through with heated skin and cold sweat. "Wake up, love," Gail reached over and ran her knuckles and the back of her hand along Holly's cheek and forehead and neck. "You're burning up." She was wide awake now.

"I'm cold," Holly chattered her teeth, shivers making her muscles twitch involuntarily.

"I think we should make a trip to the hospital," Gail decided, rubbing the skin of her head where she would have normally brushed the hair from her face. Instead, Gail reverently traced the thin skin there and felt it scalding her hand.

"I don't want to go," Holly tried to argue. It was too late though. Gail got out of bed and pulled on whatever was laying on the floor.

"We're going," Gail shook her head as she buttoned her pants and came around the bed.

"I'm wearing my FBI shirt," Holly shook her head and tried to resist. She didn't open her eyes at all. With a huff Gail racked her brain. Inevitably she gave up and ran her hands along her wife's flushed face. Holly leaned into the cool hands.

"We have to go," Gail informed her, leaning down and speaking sweeter. "Please, Hol, I'm nervous."

"I don't want everyone to know I inspect boobs," Holly frowned.

"Come on," Gail helped her up. Holly swallowed and felt her stomach doing slow rolls when she moved. "We need to get you out of this anyway, it's soaked." Gingerly Gail lifted the offending shirt and threw it on the floor. "Sit here," she commanded.

For the life of her, Holly couldn't understand why she couldn't just sleep. She was cold and achy and it felt so bad.

"Take this," Gail handed her pills and water. "Come on, Hol, take it," she pushed, waking the exhausted woman from her dozing. With a cloth Gail wiped at her clammy skin before trailing the rag along her neck and face. "There, the aspirin should help break the fever."

"I don't feel good," Holly finally realized.

"We're going to the hospital," Gail informed her again as she took the glass of water used for pill swallowing and helped Holly slip her arms into a sweater.

"I really don't feel well," Holly repeated, steadying herself on Gail's shoulders.

"It's going to be okay," Gail promised, rushing to help her wife move and head toward the stairs.

"What's happening to me?" Holly asked, confused and worried.

"I don't know, but we're going to find out, okay? Don't worry," Gail tried to calm them both.

"Okay," Holly agreed as pains made her legs feel like they were boneless. She ground her teeth together and followed Gail.

"We'll be back in bed in a few hours," Gail promised. Holly couldn't open her mouth to disagree, so she just kept breathing.


	10. Chapter 10

**One Year Later**

_Someday my pain_.  
_Someday my pain._

It wasn't that she couldn't speak, it was just that no words felt adequate, no words improved upon the silence, no words could make their way from her diaphragm. They got stuck in her gut, they were too weak to swim against the tide in her throat. Gail couldn't remember the last time she had changed her clothes either, which was a weird thing to realize out of the blue, but she did, and the thought distracted her for a few minutes.

No one understood that though. They visited but Gail refused to speak to them. She spent every second touching Holly in some way; anxiously playing with the ring on her finger, tracing her forearm, kissing her cheek, her nose, sleeping with her head down beside her on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, Gail, do you want to take a walk, maybe?" Sophie asked standing at the end of the bed. Gail couldn't even look at her. Instead, she watched her fingers striking the baby blue of the knitted hospital blanket. "You haven't seen the sun in weeks," the friend tried again. It wasn't that Gail was ignoring her so much as simply too exhausted to form any semblance of an answer. "She's my family, too." The voice was weary as well. Despite her throbbing head, Gail closed her eyes and wished her away.

The room grew quiet after he footsteps faded behind Gail, and the cop grew relieved to only be surrounded by the steady ticking of machines. The recycled and saturated hospital air made her shiver. She didn't move, but she could feel the soreness and stiffness sitting in her muscles and bones at having retained the same position for much too long.

There was once a monk that prayed in the same place for over twenty years, and eventually he left footmarks in the wood boards beneath him. Gail remembered hearing that over a cup of coffee one morning. She wondered if she stayed completely still just a little while longer, if she could remain, etched in this chair. That happened to people in Hiroshima. The blast was so quick and so mighty, it left their shadows behind. Not an ounce of human, except a shadow that proved someone once existed and was gone in an instant.

It wasn't like that with Holly. She did not disappear in a flash, but rather slowly, as if fighting to the very end.

But then came the flash that did not leave behind a shadow.

"You need to move," the nurse growled, pushing Gail from her chair and against the wall as the machines went haywire. Gail felt Holly's hand slip from hers with the exertion.

And it was a flash, to Gail. It was a flurry of movements that looked like electrons whirring about a nucleus. Until it wasn't. Until it all stopped and she didn't even realize that she couldn't hear anything. It was deadly quiet. It was so silent she couldn't even hear her thoughts. And everyone was still. The stillness fell, violently and consumingly, like a blanket thick from the dryer, stifling and exhausting and smothering.

"Come on, Peck," Oliver held her arms back. She opened her mouth to scream but it gagged her, lodged between her collarbones. "It's okay." She opened her mouth to wail and yell so loud it would shatter the windows, but it stuck in her lungs. She felt it burrowing, scratching, clawing her lungs to shreds. It felt as if she swallowed an entire collection of steak knives and they were carving her, working their way out of her chest.

Pulling her arms and fighting against her mother's arms, she fought to get back to the bed. It was still so silent, and still so still, that her commotion, her struggle felt like quicksand, as if everyone she ever knew was pulling at her arms and chest and legs.

"It's okay," her brother whispered, barring his arm across her shoulders, pinning her back. "Hey, it's okay," he assured her. Gail seethed and scratched and yanked and fought like a wild animal had possessed her, as if she were a rabid and unyielding.

There was still a lack of movement near the bed and after wearing herself out and swallowing the scream so it sat in her spine, Gail freed herself from the hands that pulled her. It was still difficult to move, as her clothes felt like they were soaked and sticking to her body, weighing down her muscles slightly.

"Holly?" Gail whispered, running her hand along her wife's cheek. "Come on. Come on, lunchbox. Wake up." She leaned her forehead against Holly's. She shook her head slowly and rubbed her nose gently along her cheek. The railing from the bed dug into her hip, but Gail couldn't move. "Please, please, please," Gail whispered. Her words felt hoarse in her throat.

Gail closed her eyes and kept her head leaning against her wife. She ran her fingertips along her neck, along her jaw. Her thumb ran along her lips.

"You promised," Gail sighed. She felt tears, hot on her cheeks, clammy on her neck. She tried to keep breathing but those words and screams were suffocating and drowning her.

"Gail..." she felt hands on her shoulders again. Gail gripped Holly tighter, as immobile and unaware as she was. "She's gone, Gail." The cop shook her head and traced her hand along Holly's cheek, over her ear, over her eyebrows, over her head. She kissed her cheek, she kissed her temple, she kissed her eyelid, she kissed her nose, all between her voiceless lips moving as if in a silent prayer.

"I love you," Gail muttered against Holly's lips. She was trembling and shaking and her lips couldn't form any sort of shape. "Don't go," she begged, quieter than anyone could hear. She fought against the fingers digging into her biceps.

Gently, reverently, Gail lifted Holly's hand and pressed it over her own cheek, she held the palm against her tightly and closed her eyes. She wanted to tell Holly that she only existed in her hands, but she couldn't. She'd used up all her words already. She kissed her palm. She held the hand to her chest and she wailed in her voiceless mouth like a wounded animal, like a deer struck by an arrow, waiting simply for nothing else.

"Come back," Gail pleaded. "Please, Holly. Please. I need you."

In one quick movement, Gail was ripped away from her. She felt hands on her shoulders, around her waist. She clawed at her own chest, she dug her nails into her skin and tried to screech but her throat closed. She tried to help her screams and moans and sobs by digging for them in her breastbone. Her nails grew bloody. The hands grew consuming. Gail was suffocating and gasping at air that wasn't coming.

"Holly!" she shouted.

It was the yell that did it. Gail screamed herself awake. She found herself sitting up in bed, a cool breeze from the open window freezing beads of sweat to her skin. Her nails were dug into her chest and they felt her lungs stretching and still trying to catch her breath. For a moment, Gail wasn't sure what had just happened to her and all she could focus on was the pit in her stomach and the act of breathing.

The first thing she could muster was retracting her claws. The sweat on her skin stung in the light scratches she managed to make in her sleep. She ran her and through her hair and shook her head. She was very much awake.

Beside her, Holly stirred in her sleep, unaware of the battle that had occurred beside her. Gail watched her silhouette come into focus as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Gail felt her muscles twitching from the tension they were holding, and as the adrenaline flooded out of her bloodstream, Gail felt the soreness that the dream had caused.

Without a word, Gail leaned over and kissed Holly's shoulder. She kept her lips there for longer than was necessary. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of soap, vanilla and skin and sunshine that seemed to glow from her skin. Holly's legs moved slightly as she took a deep breath. Without a sound, Gail pulled up the sheet and climbed quietly out of bed. Deathly afraid of ever closing her eyes again, she watched Holly for a few more minutes before deciding to change and check on her scratches.

* * *

It was unusual for Gail to be awake before Holly. It actually wasn't unusual so much as it never happened, ever. So when Holly awoke to an empty bed beside her she was aware that something was off and different about today. With a squinted eye, she fought the sunshine that was seeping through the blinds and put on her glasses. She yawned and stretched on her pillow before listening to the quiet of the house as she tried to decipher where her wife could possibly be.

Wrapping her old sweater around her tightly, Holly padded quietly down the cold floor of the hallway. She decided to expand her search downstairs.

"What are you doing up so early?" she croaked as she entered the kitchen to find Gail sitting on a stool with her back to her, pouring herself over something spread on the counter. Gail didn't jump, having heard the shuffling of morning coming from upstairs.

"Couldn't sleep," Gail turned slightly and smiled. She liked Holly in the morning. She liked that now her hair stuck up in all directions and was as messier than her own. She liked the way she could be confused, unlike any other time of day when she had all her wits about her, she liked the old, ratty sweater she frequently swaddled herself in to keep warm.

"You are never awake this early," Holly realized, taking a few steps forward and wrapping her warm, cozy arms around her wife's middle. She kissed the base of her neck, she kissed through her shirt straight to her spine.

"I had a weird dream," Gail confessed. She felt Holly's chin on her back and then shoulders and she felt her arms squeeze a bit tighter.

"Yeah? Want to tell me about it?"

"Nah, today is going to be a good day," Gail decided, pushing a warm mug towards her wife. "It's your one year check-up, and it's been nearly a year cancer-free. I'm not going to let a silly dream bother us."

"Are you sure?" Holly asked, murmuring with her lips into Gail's shoulder.

"I am," Gail nodded. "Now what can I make you for breakfast? And don't say nothing." With her dismissal of the dream, Gail stood and twisted in Holly's arms. She kissed her sweetly and switched with her, giving her the stool and access to the newspaper.

"Wow, you've got my puzzle all folded already, and tea, _and_ I get breakfast?" She asked, adjusting in her seat.

"I told you, today is going to be a good day, I can feel it," Gail smiled as she opened the fridge.

"Yeah? Even with a weird dream?" Holly sipped from Gail's tea until her own was ready.

"Definitely," Gail decided. "My horoscope said everything will work out, and an unexpected surprise is coming that will make me happy. Can't argue with that, can I?"

"Not if you're so scientific," Holly grinned with the warmth of her tea slipping into her throat. "Let's have some of those famous Peck Pancakes I always hear your brother yammering about," she decided as Gail surveyed the pantry for ideas. "It's been a while."

"Coming up," Gail grinned and started pulling out ingredients.

"I can't tell if you're terrified or genuinely happy," Holly observed as she watched Gail organizing what she would need and pulling out the large skillet and setting it on the oven.

"Me neither," Gail confessed. "But today is my favourite day of the year, and I'm going to enjoy it."

"You like it more than your birthday?" Holly ventured, barely gazing down at the crossword puzzle Gail had been struggling with.

"Yeah," Gail thought for a moment and finally assented.

"Better than Christmas?" Holly tried, fiddling with the erase of the pencil in her mouth. Gail nodded. "More than our anniversary?" Gail nodded again.

"Today is the first anniversary of our life getting back to normal," Gail said, cracking eggs and not looking up at Holly. "It will forever be better than Christmas or a birthday or anniversary."

"Even with a weird dream?" Holly continued, eager to get to the bottom of her girlfriends terrified happiness.

"Drop the dream, Stewart," Gail pointed her whisk at her wife and sassed.

"Fine," Holly led up her hands in mock surrender. "Did you read my horoscope?" With a stern look Gail returned to her batter. "You'll get what you can't have."

"I always think they're about sex," Gail shook her head, whisking briskly.

"Yeah, you would," Holly rolled her eyes.

For just a moment she allowed herself to bask in the morning. While Gail cursed at burning herself and struggled with flipping correctly, Holly found herself oddly proud that she might have succeeded in making Gail a morning person, finally.

* * *

The nursery was Gail's favourite part of the hospital. Second favourite if she was counting the chapel where she got shotgun married. But she didn't like to count it because it wasn't part of the hospital. It was a tiny part of the hospital that existed within it, and against it.

But the sixth floor, with its pale gendered colours and quiet murmurs of happiness broken only by newborn screams of complaint for the barest necessities of life, the sixth floor was a haven amidst floors and rooms and corridors of people dying and hurting and praying for miracles.

The first time Gail stumbled upon it, she was exploring while Holly napped during her hospital stay. Bored and needing to stretch her legs, she just started walking until she found herself in front of that window with all of the little babies wiggling about in their snug little blanket burritos. She spent two hours just watching them. But she didn't tell Holly because she was afraid it would upset her. So the nursery floor, with its constant beginnings and phones capturing first blinks and possible smiles, was Gail's secret sanctuary that rejuvenated her belief in goodness. It worked better than the chapel, with its nondenominational decorations and constant tears and occasional smell of arthritic cream. This baby powder scented palace was much, much better.

So while Holly got tests and needles poked in her and scans of her insides, Gail snuck here in hopes that there was a safety that would follow her. And after her nightmare, she wanted just a little assurance that everything was alright.

"Which one is yours?" a man asked her quietly, eyes glued to one of the bassinets.

"Me? Oh, no, not mine," Gail shook her head and stood a little straighter. "My girlfr-... My wife, she is getting a few tests," she tried. "I come here while she's getting prodded."

"That's mine," he pointed to the pink bundle in the bottom corner. Gail watched his face a bit longer, noting the small, proud smile on his weary face. "Nineteen inches, seven pounds, nine ounces."

"She's beautiful," Gail offered. In all of her time here, she learned that it was the proper response, even if she sometimes couldn't tell babies apart. "Your first?"

"Yeah, is it obvious?" he chuckled and looked warily at the cop who just smiled and shrugged. "We take her home in a few hours. I'm letting my wife catch up on some sleep. I don't know what comes next."

"I think it's like eighteen years of that exact feeling," Gail surmised, earning a laugh.

"I guess it's all downhill from here," he nodded, still staring at the baby. They shared a smile that seemed stuck and infectious while they watched the squirming new members of society.

"What about that one," Gail pointed to the box she'd been staring at for the past fifteen minutes. "What's his story?"

"No one's come to see him," the new father shrugged. "The nurses were talking, and he wasn't doing too well. He was born addicted to something. Mom left, no daddy. They'll take him away if he gets better."

"No one's come to see him?" Gail repeated, staring hard at the incubator. The father just shook his head.

For a moment Gail wasn't sure what to feel. To have something so frail and foreign in the place that she understood so well felt like a violent affront. It made her sad. It made her upset in ways she couldn't understand.

"Hey, I've been looking for you," Holly appeared and wrapped her arms around Gail's stomach.

"You should be resting or sitting or in the waiting room," Gail jumped at the contact and composed herself from her reverie. She hadn't expected Holly to find her, but after checking her watch she realized how long she'd meandered and wasted time, and it made sense that she would come looking.

"I went but you weren't there."

"Well, how was it, Stewart?" Gail asked, antsy and trying to hide the nerves.

"Flying colours, just like a few months ago," the other wife grinned, earning a relieved kiss on the side of her head from Gail's smiling lips. She felt Gail's arm go around her shoulder while she hugged her side. "Now we really get to celebrate. I just have to go for a blood draw once the lab is ready, and we're good to go."

"Are you sure?" Gail was afraid to ask, but she did anyway.

"Yes, Gail. Don't worry," Holly squeezed. "Healthy as a tumour-free horse."

"Do you want to go get dinner?" Gail slipped her arm around Holly, protective and supportive and afraid.

"After my work up, that sounds good. How about Frank's, over in Cabbage Town?"

"Sounds good," Gail kissed her again. She was going to spend the rest of the night stealing as many kisses as she could.

Gail watched the new father look at the two of them. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath before giving him a sheepish smile.

"Let's go check on that line in the lab, lunchbox," Gail decided, eager to get Holly resting and to make her stop putting on the show. She was exhausted and hurting and anxious for test results. "It was nice to meet you," she said to the father who went back to staring at his little baby burrito after a fond farewell. She cast one last look at the plastic box in the back corner.

"You're making friends in the nursery?" Holly asked as Gail led her back to the waiting room.

"I'm a friendly person." Holly just eyed Gail suspiciously before taking her seat in the waiting room. "How were your scans?" Gail asked as she adjusted Holly's beanie fondly. It was a sweet and simple gesture and Holly kissed her cheek for it. Even after getting so much hair back, Holly was occasionally self-conscious and retreated to it, especially in the hospital.

"Un-scanny how much I hate them," Holly grinned.

"Sometimes," Gail eyed her seriously and opened the bottle of water in her work bag to hand to her. "I can't believe I married you."

"Me too," Holly agreed.

"When will we know...?"

"I don't know," Holly cut off the trailing question.

"So now we wait."

"Yes. Now we wait."

* * *

"Hey, Diaz, I need a favour," Gail said into her phone as she paced down the hall. "You're at work, right?"

"Yeah, what's up?" he asked.

"I need you to look up anything on a newborn, abandoned, junkie mom. It'd be here at St. Joe's," Gail recited everything she could remember as she continued down the hall. She looked over her shoulder at the waiting room area where Holly absently fiddled with a magazine.

"You're still at the hospital?" he asked again. She could hear him typing and the quiet bustle of the evening shift in the background. "Is Holly okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just a few more tests, and we're done with this place for six more months." Somehow Gail found herself in front of the giant window again where a herd of sleeping babies had no thoughts at all.

"She's got to be feeling pretty lousy," Chris rambled. Gail just rolled her eyes.

"Can we hurry this along?" Gail grumbled, looking once more over her shoulder as if her curiosity was illicit.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he apologized. "I have a baby born and no one signed the certificate. CPS has a file on a premature five week old."

"And no one can find the parents?" Gail asked, head on the glass as she stared at the box that no one cared about in the entire world.

"Nope, parental rights are waved and he's a ward of the province. Any reason why-?"

"Thanks." Gail hung up the phone and shoved it in her pocket.

* * *

"The doctor said he would call when he got the results, but it all looked good. It's a bit of a relief, isn't it? I mean, one year ago, things were the worst, and now, it's great. It couldn't be better," Holly sighed as Gail held her hand and they strolled along the corridor. Her girlfriend didn't hear her though. Holly could tell when Gail was somewhere else because she made no effort to hide it. "Gail, hey, hi."

"I'm listening," the cop insisted. "The test."

"I'm exhausted," Holly leaned on her shoulder, not wanting to continue the fight.

"Can I show you something before I take you home?"

Gail didn't wait for a response before she guided Holly back to the nursery.

"You've been weird all evening," Holly observed, once again, to a wife who wasn't paying much attention.

"You have to put this on," Gail held up a yellow gown. Holly stared at her blankly before furrowing her brows and opening her mouth to argue. "It's okay. I called a lady and she called someone here." Though not concrete, the doctor allowed her cop to help her pull it on over her clothes. Gail did the same to herself before opening the door and creeping inside where all of the babies were either wiggling or cocooned in their first sleeps.

"Are we allowed in here?" Holly worried, looking at a nurse busy with paperwork in the far corner.

"Sort of," Gail shrugged, grabbing Holly's hand again and bringing her to the back corner near the box. "I wanted you to meet this little guy." Holly watched Gail lean over the box. She felt her squeeze her hand. She saw her blue eyes dancing.

"Is this where you've been all evening?" Holly asked, still unable to take her eyes from the blonde.

"Kind of. I made some calls, talked to nurses, and I was afraid to come in here for very long without you."

"What's going on?"

"Holly, I never believed in much before I met you," Gail looked up over the incubator. "We're not religious. We're not even WASPs. I didn't really think about karma or God or my place in the universe, but I always, and I mean _always_, felt a little inclined to take signs and coincidences."

"Like when you take advertisements as signs that we should eat out?" Holly laughed and earned a smile from her wife.

"Exactly." Gail sighed and slipped her hand in the gloves on the side of the box. "This guy was born five weeks ago. He had an awfully big yearning for drugs of the street variety. And do you know what the doctors said?"

"Poor little guy?" Holly ventured, looking down for the first time.

Inside the incubator, the baby in question slept soundly with wires and tubes keeping track of his body. He was tiny, but sturdy and baby skin pink. He gripped at Gail's finger through the plastic of the glove while her other hand ran a finger along his ribs.

"They told him that he had a fifty percent chance of lasting the night. And when he was still around the next morning, they told him he had a fifty percent chance of making it the week. That was a month ago."

"Gail," Holly leaned her chin on her arm on the incubator.

"He doesn't have anyone, Hol." Gail refused to look up. "Can you imagine the year we had before, and doing it all alone?"

"Honey..."

"Look, you beat the odds, they gave you a fifty percent chance, and you've been a champ."

"Gail."

"Why can't we be the somebodies for him?" she finally asked. Holly refused to look at him again.

"This is... Gail. No. This isn't PetSmart. We can't just pick out something fluffy in the window and try it on for a few minutes," Holly retracted her hands and took a step back. "I had cancer, Gail," Holly raised her voice. "I'm trying to just figure out my next week. You're asking for something... This is out of now where. We can't just... It doesn't make sense."

"Holly, take a deep breath," Gail began, hushing her. "You don't think it's fate that I found him today, on your one year day? You don't think it's a sign that he was born on the day one year later, that you were here in the hospital, nearly dying? It's not a bit of destiny that we get this chance when I know full well how hard it was for you to have that surgery and take away your shot at being a mother? It's here. It's not the best time, it's not the best reasons, but he doesn't have anyone, and we've gotten pretty good at fifty-fifty chances."

"Gail..."

"They left him. Someone left him and the doctors gave him a fifty-fifty shot, and you told me that the odds were all how we played them." Holly watched her agitated wife grow more upset and pleading. "What are the chances of you getting better? And what are the chances of him making it? And what are the chances that every butterfly flap in the world led up to this moment where we are all in the same place at the same time?"

"This is a baby, Gail. It's not a puppy or deciding where to eat for dinner. You're asking me to pick up a strange baby when our lives are just getting back to normal. It's just... it's not possible."

Holly allowed herself one more look at the incubator before she looked at Gail and pulled off the gown on her way out of the room. Gail watched her go and felt her lungs trying to escape through her throat.

She knew it was impulsive. She knew it was crazy, but for some reason, it felt obscenely right. After her nightmare and the utter fear that had nagged her throughout the day, Gail hadn't felt at ease until the moment she first touched the baby boy. It was something she recognized as the same feeling of relief when Holly first taunted her with medical jurisprudence. Gail wanted to say that the stars aligned, but that was too cheesy. It just felt... right. It felt like an affirmation that she had taken the right doors and stumbled down the proper streets to get where her life needed.

"It's going to take some convincing, but I'll work on her," Gail whispered, leaning down to look through the side of the clear crib. "Just hang tough, okay? She'll come around." Gail looked up at the window to see Holly with her back to her. "Listen, I've only had my gut tell me three things in my entire life. One, is standing outside right now, really mad at me. Two is that she was going to be okay when she was given a fifty-fifty chance. I don't know why I think that, but I just believed it in my gut, even when I was freaking out..." Gail traced his cheek and he knitted his eyes shut tighter. " And third, is you. I have a feeling that you are going to be alright and I have a feeling that we can help with that. You just have to hang out in here a bit longer. I know it sucks. Hospitals are the worst." Gail smiled as a yawn came from the toothless mouth. "You get some more sleep. I'll come back, I promise. And don't take anything she said personally. She's just scared. We had kind of a great year getting back to normal, but the one before that was rough. Really rough. I mean, we got married, but she also almost died. You would be kind of hopping into a shit show. But believe me, it can only get better from here, for both of us." With a final stroke, Gail removed her hand. "Good night, little man."

* * *

"You're an ass," Holly fumed in the dark. She punched her pillow and adjusted, rolling farther to her own side of the bed. Gail was afraid to follow. She stayed on her own side, completely away and not touching her angry wife.

"I didn't mean to-"

"No, you never mean to do anything. You can't just... I don't know... decide in twenty minutes that you want a kid," Holly turned over again and huffed, unable to get rid of the angry streak in her spine.

"Holly, I was just saying-"

"No, you can't just say!" Holly insisted, pulling on the blankets. Gail remained perfectly still, afraid to move an inch. "You can't just drop that on me, Gail."

"I thought-"

"You didn't think!" Holly sat up and ran her hand through her hair. "Do you even understand how crazy that is?"

"Yes, but-"

"I can't be a mom!" Holly kicked away the sheets and stood beside the bed as Gail turned her head to look at her. "We haven't even discussed it. We haven't figured out how to be married, and you just on a whim talk about a baby?"

"I-"

"I'm going to sleep in the spare," Holly shook her head and cut off whatever inspiring speech Gail could hope to have.

It was well into the morning that both tossed and turned in separate rooms; Gail, afraid that she had messed up irrevocably, and Holly, tormented by the idea of the blue bundle int eh incubator.

When Gail woke in the morning and tentatively knocked on the door to the spare room, coffee firmly in hand and apology ready as soon as her knuckles met the door, she was surprised to find the room empty altogether.

When she was done cursing herself red, she took a deep breath and resigned herself to a trip to the florists.

* * *

"Dr. Stewart?" a woman held out her hand as Holly approached. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"It's actually Mrs. Peck, right now," Holly decided resolutely. "You're Ms. Goodman? It's nice to meet you."

"I've pulled the records you requested," the woman said, digging into her bag. "Your wife was right, about the basics though. We have been-" Holly looked at the papers, almost ignoring the song and dance put forth by the social worker. She noted the levels and racked her brain for her rotation in medical school with paediatrics to kick in. She hadn't seen anything like this though, and it made her nervous. "There's the worry about the heart, though, so I haven't heard many people eager to..."

"Adopt, you can say it," Holly looked up as she closed the files. "I've never seen my wife want something more, and I don't know why."

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've never wanted anything more," Holly sighed. "Can I... can I see him?"

"Sure, follow me, Dr. Stewart."

In less than five minutes, Holly found herself back in the nursery, be-gowned and afraid to look at the incubator again. He was so tiny, his arms were so thin, the tubes and the wires were menacing. When she woke up after just a few hours of sleep in the spare room, she hadn't expected to end up here on her lunch break. She hadn't expected to make the call that morning after pacing around her office. She hadn't expected a lot of things, but here she was because her wife was an ass and infected her with the idea of the future.

"What do the doctor's say?" Holly asked, wringing her hands and afraid to look at the baby, afraid to be hopeful.

"They'll know more in a few weeks. The next round of antibiotics should help with the murmur." The worked didn't put on a gown, but stood beside the door, watching Holly's every move and thought.

For a moment Holly allowed herself to look inside. The baby looked around and looked as if he was concentrating very hard on existence in general. His eyes were dark and his hair was slightly reddish brown, and those ears and that nose and those hands. Holly swallowed.

"What's his name?" she asked, looking up at the worker who was busy working on something else in her files.

"Baby Doe," she said without looking up. Holly pursed her lips. "I have to make a call, will you be alright? I'll be just outside." Holly nodded and watched her leave before looking back at the box.

"Listen, I know I said some things yesterday, but I just wanted to come by to make sure you were alright, check your charts, because you don't have anyone," Holly explained, systematic and apologetic. "I know Gail said some stuff, but I just..." Holly swallowed. "I came to tell you that I'm sorry I don't think I could be someone for you. You don't want me. I was sick, and I could be sick again. And you already had one set of parents leave." Holly looked around to make sure she was alone. "You're very adorable and you'll be alright. Don't let them tell you that you only got fifty percent chance. It's all rubbish."

After a few moments of quiet and watching him squirm, Holly slipped her hand into the side and let him hold her finger. He was fussy and ready to scream. She rubbed his knee. She fell in love.

"My mom died. I almost died. Gail said it was fate," Holly rambled with a sigh. "I still have a dad, and a step mom, and my big sister, she has kids. I am a really good aunt. I'm a pretty good big sister. I just don't know if I'd be a good mom. I always wanted to be one though." Holly wasn't sure when her voice fell to a whisper. The eyes looked back at her and blinked and shook its head, agitated and ornery. "But maybe it was fate that I got it and Lucy didn't, and I can't have kids. Maybe I'll be horrible." She stroked along his stomach as he squirmed. She used long, soft strokes and he stopped wiggling so much.

"I'm not even ready," Holly explained. "I can't... I've never seen my wife so sure of something. But this is crazy. It's just crazy. How are we qualified? There's just... it's insane, right?" she shook her head as the tiny fists wiggled and then fell in defeat, succumbing to her relaxing stroking. "Well, I can make you fall asleep, so that's something," she sighed. He gave her a yawn that curled his lips in one corner. Holly smiled. "I'm terrified by how much I want you. I got so mad at Gail because I can't..."

"We could," a voice made Holly stand up a big straighter, guilty and caught redhanded.

"I just... came to see his stats," Holly said, pulling her hand away. At the quick movement, the baby started to tremble and shake again. "I was curious."

"Yeah?" Gail asked, grinning like she did, grinning that cocky grin she had when she knew she bested her wife. Holly just shrugged and slipped her hand back in the side of the box.

"Shh, it's okay, little man," she whispered and went back to stroking as he held her other finger.

"You know it's your fault right," Gail leaned against the box and looked at her wife. "You turned me into a hopeful person."


	11. Chapter 11

**One More Year Later**

_Lately I've been feeling like  
this could last forever,_  
_This could last forever._

Her wife was tossing and turning much more than usual; so much more that it woke her completely. When she rolled over with a humph, Holly found Gail covered in a cold sweat and lungs breathing in irregular beats and sighs. For a moment, Holly watched her lips move and murmur and her forehead furrow, as if she were fighting for her life against some dream-state force. She sat up slightly and debated how to handle the situation.

It wasn't until Gail dug her nails into her own chest that Holly grabbed her hands and tried to wake her. She had been used to Gail's occasional bad dream after a rough day at work or the unending amount of stress that sometimes reached catastrophic levels and tortured the cop at night. But this was different.

"Gail, honey," Holly whispered, gripping her wrists as she struggled more. "Wake up. It's just a dream. It's just a dream, love," she cooed, quiet and gentle as she could. From her wife's chest a whispered moan emerged, sad and howling and stifled.

Gail shot awake a second later, jolting upright and trying to catch her breath with a large gasp. In the dark Holly could see her eyes, wide and white and confused, for just a minute as they gained their bearings they darted around, terrified and lost.

"Holly?" Gail swallowed and pushed her palm to her chest as Holly let go. "What... what happened?" Gail had deep creases in her forehead from concentrating and trying to catch up the the events that were transpiring around her. "You were..."

"You were dreaming, love. It was just a dream," Holly assured her, running her hand along her wife's damp forehead and neck.

"Every year," Gail exhaled and shook her head.

For a moment they sat in the dark and Gail waited for her lungs to stop doing the thing where they constricted and she felt like she was stuck in a vice grip. Holly pushed away her hair and kissed her shoulder, leaning her chin there and running her hand along Gail's thigh to reassure her that it was alright. She heard about the dream, or perhaps The Dream, earning its capital denotation because of the pure look of fear it inspired in her wife's eyes. The Dream seemed an annual event that coincided with Holly's yearly work up. There was no real mystery there. The mystery was how it was so violent and terrible that it made Gail an uneasy sleeper for a week afterward.

"I'm alive," Holly whispered to Gail's fevered skin. She was humid with her dreamworld living beneath her surface, firing through her veins. "I'm okay," she promised. "It was just a dream."

"I know," Gail nodded. "I know," she managed despite her dry mouth that stuck together. She turned her head and kissed her wife's forehead, closing her eyes as she did, trying to recall the feeling of it and make sure it was real. "Let's go back to sleep. You have a long day tomorrow."

"No longer than yours," Holly assured her, though she felt the sleep in her eyes still and allowed Gail to persuade her back to laying down beneath the sheets. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Honestly, not a bit," Gail sighed. "I just want you."

In the night Gail couldn't close her eyes when they settled once more beneath the sheets. She felt Holly's breath on her collar, on her chest. She felt her arms squeezing her ribs and the weight of her leg slipping between her own. She stroked Holly's hair and kissed her forehead again, causing the doctor to nuzzle into her neck a bit harder, searching for more, always for more. Eventually Holly fell back asleep and left Gail alone in the dark with her dream.

Unable to sleep again, Gail stared at the ceiling, wondering if she would ever get beyond how real it all felt, how close it had actually been, how it might be her future one day. But she allowed herself only this night, this one night of the year, to truly wallow in the unforgiving nature of the future. And her subconscious made her pay for it.

When the dawn began to break and Gail noticed the dark of her room becoming grey and then dim blue and then a sliver of yellow like a streak of finger paint, she heard a few noises from the monitor. Carefully detangling herself from her wife's tight grip, she excused herself for a much needed reprieve from this day already. Holly slept on and Gail kissed her shoulder and said a morning prayer before pulling up the sheet and sneaking into the other room.

* * *

With her eyes still closed and brain still half asleep, Holly rolled over and waved her hand, hoping to slip it around her inevitably grumbly, tired wife. Instead, her hand was met with nothing but cold sheets and a distinct emptiness in the form of a missing body. With a moan and a yawn, she dug her palms into her eyes and stretched, slightly concerned about the whereabouts of her partner.

It wasn't until she had yawned herself awake and slipped on her glasses did she register the distinct sound of voices on the monitor by the bed.

"There we go," Gail cheered slightly. "The world is so much better with a clean bum, right?" A happy gurgle followed her questioning. "Ah yeah, that's my little man," Gail giggled. "You're ready to take on the world now."

Holly sat up in the bed and turned the monitor up slightly.

"Now we just have to work on you sleeping in a little longer, and we'll be golden," her wife continued. Talking to the baby was something Gail did often, Holly had realized. What was more mystifying was some of the things she said, as if she was explaining things and he would understand. "It's okay, I was up already. I didn't have to argue with Mommy about who was going to come and change you." There was the unmistakable sound of a rattle or toy being shaken to its hearts content. "I had a bad dream. The worst dream, actually. I won't bore you with it. But you know your mommy was sick, kind of like you were, and I think I'll have it forever, but you know what?" she asked. Holly could picture her grin and tickling at their son's cheeks and neck. "It's okay. It's okay because every other night, I have really good dreams."

Smiling to herself, Holly crawled out of bed and wrapped herself in her sweater before combing at her hair with hands, pushing it in a pile around her head, deciding it needed trimmed once again. Quiet as she could, she tiptoed down the hall to the former spare that was now the baby's room, eager to be part of the action with her own little family.

"Well, what do you say, Finn? Is today the day? _mama. _That's all. Try. _Mama_." All that accompanied her pleading words was spitting and sputtering. "Alright, well soon you'll say it. Don't you want to say it?" Her question was met with a rhetorical amount of baby chatter full of sputtering lips and nonsensical sounds.

For a moment Holly stood in the door and watched Gail balancing the baby on the floor, hard at work at getting him to take those steps on his own. It was coming, she had assured Holly. Any day now. Their son flailed his arms and hit his mom's arms in his swirl of activity, earning a laugh from Gail. She held his hands and had him try to take a few steps towards her. His little legs fumbled and gawked.

It was a far cry from their first week with the baby, when they had Chris and Dov over to help them paint in a rush, and every inch was perfected with hand-me-downs from her sister and presents from both sides of the families. And then they brought him home, and he cried and fussed and both Holly and Gail were sure that they were doing it all wrong. It was a week of anxious calls to Lucy and sleepless nights and long, exhausting days. It was Holly falling asleep in the rocking chair, and Gail, walking about in zombie-like fashion trying to figure out if she had clothes that didn't have some form of baby vomit or pee on them. And then one night, he simply slept. He slept soundly. And one morning, he smiled at Holly, and she cried so hard she thought she would dry herself up of tears. And things were never the same again. For nearly ten months, Finn Stewart Peck had owned every minute of their lives, and they couldn't have been happier. He was a happy and healthy baby who, though not blood, had inherited his new mom's inability to listen to the odds.

"You are going to be running laps in no time," Gail promised, scooping him up into a giggling kiss as she stood herself.

To see her wife as such a good mother was no surprise to Holly. But to see her so happy and in such a constant state was always a marvel.

"What are we going to do when he actually starts running around?" Holly asked. Both faces turned to her voice with smiles.

"Set him free to live in the wilderness," Gail informed her, meeting her in the door she gave her a good morning kiss. "I'm pretty sure that's how parenting works." Holly held her a second longer, pulling her back in to make it an even better morning.

"How are my babies this morning?" Holly ignored her comment, stealing the baby from her arms. "Look at that, Mommy got you dressed and changed and everything already. We might be on time for daycare this morning."

"Go shower, and I'll do breakfast," Gail offered as Holly kissed their son's cheeks and blew raspberries on his neck. She thought she'd never get enough of his laugh and smile. She remembered the baby in the box and wondered how she thought she could ever be here, and how she could have almost passed over this moment.

"Do you remember when we used to shower together?" Holly sighed, finally turning to Gail. Her face was exhausted, and even though it was on the tip of her tongue, Holly didn't press her luck to ask about the dream.

"I do. I miss those days," Gail agreed.

"How about tonight, after dinner..." Holly raised her eyebrows slightly. "What do you say, Peck? Schedule some alone time with me?"

"Whatever you want," she agreed eagerly, leaning forward again, kissing her wife while the baby played with her hair. "Now go shower. We will go make breakfast." With a final scoop, Gail balanced the baby on her hip, kissed her wife again, and made her way downstairs. "Let's go check our horoscopes," she whispered to the antsy, squirming bundle in her arms. She kissed him as well as they made their way downstairs.

* * *

"I'm home now," Holly muttered, balancing the phone on her shoulder and adjusting her bag filled with files she brought home from work. Her half day at the office and other half at the hospital left her with too much to go over and verify tonight. "I get the results in a few days, but my scans were clear. So please tell everyone who keeps trying to call me."

Holly struggled with her keys in the lock and leaned her head against the door in defeat.

"Lucy, I want to go into my house, so I am going to hang up now," she sighed, readjusting her bag and shifting against the glass of the door. "I know, I know," she rolled her eyes. "Please don't go through the trouble... Okay, okay... Thanks for the warning."

It took another minute after hanging up for Holly to open the door. It took another for her to successfully drop her keys on the table in their rightful spot, hang her bag on the rack, and get her coat off and tucked away as well. After her flurry, she tenderly reapplied the tape to her arm that held a cotton ball to stop the blood from the needles she'd met just a few hours earlier.

For just another moment, Holly allowed herself to be victoriously silent in the quiet of the house. In under an hour, her sister had informed her that there would be a descent of family upon the house to celebrate two years of anything but normalcy. For just another moment, Holly wanted to relish in the absolute form of new normal that had developed since the day she walked onto the crime scene that would change her life, that had developed since the day she sat in the doctor's office, that had developed since the day she held her son. Life with Gail had been anything but normal. Between various mental and physical injuries and stresses from her job, there came unique challenges that were uniquely Gail. But in it there came a type of normalcy now.

With a deep breath, Holly decided it was high time she hurried and set up tables for the impromptu gathering of well-wishers and revellers who were happy she was alive. Soon enough Gail would return in a sour state at having to host the family, and Holly would have to promise to make it worth her while, and that was hard work.

But Holly didn't make it to the door of the basement to lug up the spare card tables and hodgepodge of chairs or stools to accommodate everyone. Instead, she found her wife already home and very much in an unsour mood, and perhaps the safest state for a Gail to exist in- napping soundly. With her hand firmly placed on Finn's back, both the baby and the wife slept soundly in a pile on the couch with the television whispering about British news, a trick they'd discovered that numbed both of the watchers into a bored state of sleepy.

This was Holly's normal, now. The baby with the scar on his chest from getting his heart fixed and the cop with the scar on her collar bone from a rogue fence post she couldn't quite jump as a kid and a plethora of bruises that constantly smudged her pale skin as a result of her job, both snuggling oblivious to the thankful gaze of another. Holly took it all in as she absently fidgeted with the tape and cotton ball.

Even though the baby would be impossible to get to sleep at bedtime and her wife would be impossible to console through the forced family gathering, Holly let them sleep, and she watched their rising chests and occasional stirs of dreams on their cheeks and eyes and noses. For the first time, Holly realized how close she'd been to missing this exact moment. Just two years ago she was almost robbed of this.

Closing her eyes tightly in an effort to burn the image onto her eyelids, into her memory, throughout her mind, within her soul, Holly knew she would never find more motivation that this stolen moment.

* * *

"You have to share, Mom," Gail insisted as she made her way into the kitchen and topped off her mother's glass of wine.

"I know I should, but I just can't," Elaine insisted, smiling and making a face to the perplexed baby who smiled anyway in her arms. "He is too perfect and I don't get to see him enough." She balanced him on her knees. The little boy struggled to stand. "And you never bring him by the office or even home. My most recent picture is nearly two months old." Gail sighed and rolled her eyes before filling up her own glass once more.

"We get busy," she shrugged. It was weak, but it was the truth.

"This is the first Peck grandbaby, and I have all of these Grandma urges that need to be satisfied," the mother explained, still smiling and playing with the baby.

"Yeah, well he's still a Stewart a bit, so you have to share with all of the aunts and uncles," Gail informed her, earning an indignant roll of eyes and shake of head. Finn turned his head and looked at his mom and smiled and laughed and reached for her. Gail was whipped beyond repair. She thought it would only be Holly's dark brown eyes that made her pull out the trampoline and ask how high, but these baby browns were just as deadly. "I can't blame you for wanting to steal him though."

"You know that an hour isn't much warning for a dinner invitation," Elaine sighed and handed over the squirming baby. Gail scooped him up quickly.

"Mom, I had about as much warning as you," she explained. "But today is an important day in our lives. And I invited you because of that. I didn't have to-" Elaine pursed her lips and flared her eyebrows, eager to interrupt. "But I wanted to, even if I knew you would complain, because it is important and you've been surprisingly supportive with Holly and Finn and you are part of our lives and you deserve to be here for this important day."

Gail distracted herself with checking the diaper and bouncing her son as she spoke the words because they were honest and they were heavy with realization and gratitude, both things she was not eager to exhibit.

"Maybe you can watch him for us next weekend," she offered after a few seconds of silence. "We could use a night off."

"That would be wonderful," Elaine answered eagerly. "I'll tell your father. He will be excited."

Between the two generations of Peck women, an understanding of sorts passed. It was a give and take between mothers and it was a metaphorical nod of pride and perhaps even love in its various forms.

"I've been looking everywhere for more wine," Dov entered the kitchen excitedly, followed quickly by Chloe and Annie and Matt and Chris. Each stacked plates on the counter and emptied their arms of whatever they were carrying. "But also this guy. Come on to Uncle Dov," he held his hands out to take Finn whose eyes were wide with the surge of people crowding the island in the kitchen.

"I told you to knock that off," Gail warned him.

"Uncle Dov can't stop," he shook his head and grinned at Gail. "He's Uncle Dov."

In the small kitchen, a debate erupted once again over the genealogy of the police force that involved the passing and loving of the small child between the bickering and laughing adults. And then more adults joined and filed in to fill the room to the rafters with love and complaining. And it turned into more wine bottles appearing and filling glasses. And the hours moved forward, much to Gail's surprise, at a leisurely pace that didn't bother her at all.

"I think it's nearly time for us to put him to bed. It's well past bedtime," Holly insisted as she finally caught the newly fussy bundle of onesie and spoiled love.

"We should be going," her sister nodded with a stretch.

"We should as well," Elaine touched her husbands shoulder to get his agreement.

"Before you go," Gail cleared her throat slightly and chanced a quick glance around the room. Dov, with his arms around Chloe leaned against the corner. Chris and his girlfriend, Lucy and her husband with the toddler sleeping in his arms, Traci and Steve, James and Annie and Matt and her mother and Holly's father and just everyone that leaned and sat on counters and filled the island with glasses and discarded plates and laughter. Most importantly, she looked at Holly and her son and his tired face, the one she knew came before a fit of exhaustion.

"Today is my favourite day of the year," Gail stated simply. "Today is the day I got my wife back, and it's the day I met my son, and this year, it's the day I get to share my gratitude with my big, marvellous, and completely overbearing and unwelcome family." There was a small laugh. She felt Holly's hand on her back and it made her strong. "I am a hopeful person. And I hope the next year is just as beautiful as the last one was."


	12. Chapter 12

**A Few More Years Later**

_Oh don't let go of my hand, don't let go of my hand._  
_Oh don't let go of my hand, don't let go of my hand._  
_Oh don't let go of my hand, don't let go of my hand._  
_Oh don't let go of my hand, don't let go of my hand._

Gail hadn't meant to do it. She honestly hadn't. She fought against it with all of her might, with every fibre of her being, but her wife was no help at all. Sleep had come as it always did, even though Gail tried to tell it how bad of an idea it was, even though she prayed against The Dream and one moment of rest the entire night, Sleep hadn't listened. But she was exhausted from her shift, and she was tired from the work that came after it, and she was sleepy from worrying, and she was soothed in that menacing way her wife was known to do with her soft, circle-rubbing hands and her steady, rhythmic breathing that ate at Gail's will and perseverance for hours.

She had prepared herself to stay awake, that was how terrified she was of the Dream, that was how real it was for her. But it came again, swift and sure and with a vengeance that left her paralyzed after just an hour. And now she was wide awake in the dark of the middle of the night while Holly slept soundly beside her, unaware and slightly hogging the covers.

Gail swallowed against the cotton in her throat, she wiped her forehead from the cool sweat freezing to her skin, she unclenched her fists against the spasms and adrenaline in her blood stream. It was an experience she forgot how it felt exactly until it happened again, and then it was so familiar. But it faded. It was fading as she laid there. And it would return to remind her next year.

Under the sheets, she ran her knuckles along the exposed skin on Holly's back. Her wife barely noticed in her sleep, but Gail didn't care. She just needed proof that it was just a dream, even though she knew it was ridiculous to think that at all. Every year felt like a miracle; every year felt like borrowed time that death would come to collect sooner rather than later, and it made Gail more uneasy as opposed to relaxed as year after year of perfect and clear scans came back.

"Mommy?" A small voice whispered through the dark, pulling Gail from her own cyclone of thoughts. With her eyes adjusted, Gail saw a slight opening of the door. "Mommies?" It tried again, creeping closer. "Are you asleeping?"

"What's wrong, baby?" Gail asked, sitting up and sneaking a look at the clock once more to assure herself that it really was much too late for him to be awake and that her dream had happened just like clockwork for the sixth year in a row, even going as far as to wake her within the same hour.

"I had a bad dream," Finn approached her side of the bed, running his hand along the edge, tentative and bashful. His voice was so little and it made Gail feel as if her dream had been ridiculous compared to whatever made him sound like that. Or perhaps she sounded like that as well. Either thought confused her. Gail fought with her messy hair and yawned despite how awake she was.

"Okay, come on," she lifted the sheets and duvet and helped him wiggle into the bed, ancient stuffed lion thrown in first, naturally. "Try not to wake Mom," Gail whispered as he wriggled and situated between the two bigger bodies.

"I didn't," he promised with a slightly louder whisper. Holly shifted in her sleep and stretched, but slept on, oblivious to the terrible dream club slowly forming in their bed.

They were quiet while they continued to slightly adjust every so often until Gail found a lion inching its way up her stomach.

"Do you want to tell me about your bad dream?" she finally asked, slipping lower so her head was as low as her son's. In the dark she saw the outline of his head shake. The lion came up between them, a natural shield he used to protect himself. "Did Howard have a bad dream too?" she asked the lion this time. A nod greeted her. "I had a bad dream tonight, too," she whispered. "But no matter what you know that bad dreams aren't real, right?" He nodded again. "And you know that you and Howard are safe, and there's nothing to be afraid of and nothing can get you."

"I was really scared," he sighed, moving closer. "I don't like bad dreams."

"I know, love," she cooed, running her fingers along his hair. In the daylight, it was brown, and closer to Holly's dark colour. Gail missed the baby fairness that darkened after just a year. But his eyes. They killed her. The same blue from the first day she met him. Pure blue. Bluer than her own. Though Holly would say they were just a different shade, Gail refused to believe that. His were just crisper and warm and blinding. Something hers never were. While she was cold and calculating, her son's eyes were wide and innocent and mesmerizing. It felt like they shared something when he followed most closely after Holly, despite the lack of any genetic link at all.

"It was horrible," he explained. Everything was horrible recently. Ever since he picked up the word, things weren't just bad or not okay. They were horrible. Though on this opinion, Gail had to agree full-heartedly.

"Yeah, well you don't have to worry," she explained. "I'm super strong and Mom is super smart, so between us, there's nothing to worry about, okay? Bad dreams can't beat out two whole mommies."

"Okay," he agreed, sleepy and reluctant.

"Let's go back to sleep," Gail yawned for show. Her son shook his head. "You have to sleep, hon." Another shake. "What if I stay awake and keep guard and you sleep and then I will wake you up and we can switch, okay?" For a moment there was no movement, no agreement or disagreement, just hard, childlike pondering.

"Okay."

"Okay then," Gail pulled up the sheets a bit tighter around him.

"What if Mommy is having bad dreams now?" Finn whispered against Gail's shoulder. She paused her hand on his back and thought about it for a moment.

"Then when she wakes up, we will tell her what I told you; that I'm pretty strong and you're pretty smart and we will protect her, and nothing is going to scare her while we're on duty. But bad dreams are just something that happens. Can't stop them for someone else."

"Okay," he nodded. Gail felt little hands on her sleeve and an elbow and knee in her side. She didn't mind it so much. "I love you, Mom," Finn sighed and rubbed his nose against her shoulder.

"I love you, too," she promised quietly.

Her son was tired, and she exploited his tired by rubbing his back in those damn slow and smooth circles her wife used on her. Gail was half surprised it worked. Holly was better at such things, better at the more tender moments, better at knowing what to say. Gail felt like she was making it up as she went. But it didn't matter. Finn still sat on the first step and stared out the window of the front door until she came home if she worked late. And he still liked her pancakes better than Holly's. And he still like Gail's storybook voices more.

Her family slept beside her while Gail tried to convince herself that bad dreams were just bad dreams. It was easy to lie to a five year old. But maybe there was something to it all. With a tiny hand on her neck and Holly's shin slipping between hers, Gail believed that she was capable of protecting them, and they were capable of protecting her, and for just the moment it was enough to let her fall into a fitful, almost sleep.

* * *

"Wake up," Holly heard as tiny hands rubbed her cheek softly. She grunted in response and dug her head into the pillow despite the rubbing hands. "Mommy, wake up," the voice got closer and Holly felt a noise on her cheek now. "Mom, I'm hungry."

"That's why you have two mommies," Holly complained, peaking one eye to see her son's smiling face. He growled and peered back at her, his smile unperturbed by her answer.

"That's what the other one said," he rolled his eyes.

"Go turn on cartoons, and I will be down in a minute," Holly explained as she yawned and turned over, meeting the sun in the windows and her son on the edge of her bed. He eyed her suspiciously. "I promise. Just two minutes. Four minutes tops." He let out an audible complaint. "Seven minutes and forty-three seconds, max," she assured him with a smile. He slipped from the bed and turned back to her, brow heavy and thinking. Squinting at his form in the door, Holly smiled slightly at his contemplative glance.

"Did you have bad dreams?" Finn asked.

"No, baby. Only good dreams last night," she yawned again.

"Okay," he decided.

Before she could ask him a question, he was just a trail of dinosaur pj's and dust heading to find cartoons to pass the morning. She strained to hear stomping down the stairs and was rewarded like clockwork. It let her turn her attention to the other big kid in her life.

Hair a mess and sticking out from under the pillow, Holly shifted closer to her wife. Gail grunted before reluctantly lifting her head and squinting in the light. Her head flopped back down a minute later with a coinciding louder grunt of defiance against the early hour.

"Good morning," Holly whispered, grin spreading through her half-lidded eyes from her contented cheeks. She ran her nose along Gail's shoulder, along her neck, along her own cheek.

"Ten more minutes," Gail yawned and burrowed into the doctor. Holly gave her just a few more, gingerly rubbing her back and playing with her long hair, both waking slowly and to each other. Holly ran her leg along Gail's, she slipped her hand under her shirt, she kissed her jaw.

"Did you have it?" she asked. Gail clenched her eyes tighter and dug her face into the pillow before nodding. Holly sighed. When Gail finally peaked her eye out, Holly ran her fingers along her brow, along her temple, coaxing her out of her mood. "You've been working yourself to the bone," Holly fretted.

"I don't mind it as much," Gail turned now and slipped her arms around her wife. "The Dream. Because it is such a relief to wake up and see you. Nothing in the world beats that feeling."

"You're charming first thing in the morning," Holly smiled slightly. She wasn't kidding when she worried over her wife's schedule. She didn't like to downplay the Dream. She worried herself sick over Gail's seemingly unending supply of strength and it's inevitable end. But it never did.

"You should see me when I'm awake," Gail grinned. "I'm even smoother." She kissed Holly, slow and sweet and first. It meant to be, at least. Until Holly sighed and Gail pushed slightly until she was halfway atop the doctor and the sigh was joined by a hitch. It simply progressed as it was meant to do, slow, gentle, tired and lazy. Sloppy lips and fumbly hands.

"I have to go make breakfast," Holly sighed as Gail's lips moved to her neck. She still held her wife's lips there; she still tilted her head and felt Gail teasing her hips.

"I'll be quick," Gail promised. It was tempting, words tickling their way along Holly's ear lobe as fingers slid past rib bones and hips dug into hip joints.

"I don't want quick," Holly half-lied. She wanted Gail and it was damn near impossible to pass up this moment. "I want you," she pushed back, made hre move, out-maneuvered her wife. "For hours. Uninterrupted and naked."

"MOM!" a yell came from downstairs. "It is almost time now?"

"Ugh," Gail groaned and let her forehead drop to the crook in her wife's neck. "This is torture."

"I think it might be a sleepover night tonight," Holly relaxed into the bed. "Do you think Grandma Peck will want to take the little man so I can... you know," Holly plotted. "Get you all to myself?" She shamelessly pushed her hips upwards.

"She better," Gail sighed, pushing herself off of her wife and flopping to her own side of the bed. "Or I swear to God I'm going to lose my mind."

They both turned to look at each other and smiled. Neither moved to touch the other. That would be too much. They would never stop. Over a decade together and every morning felt like the first morning.

"I'm not dying," Holly promised. Her voice was quiet and heavy with so many promises already.

"I know," Gail nodded. Holly was sucked into her big blue eyes, puppy and sad and strong. "But you almost did and that was the scariest thing that ever happened to me."

"Do you know what the scariest thing to me was?" Holly realized. " When I first saw you hold Finn and realized I couldn't miss one minute."

"You're not dying," Gail promised.

"I know."

With a flourish of comforter and heave, Holly left Gail under a pile of blankets as she climbed out of bed.

"But I am going to be first for breakfast," she teased with a grin as Gail pushed away the blankets covering her.

"The tease'em and leave'em type," Gail shook her head. "I'm on to you, Stewart."

"How else am I supposed to keep you on your toes?"

* * *

"Nope, nope, can't," Gail shook her head as she detached her radio quickly. "Don't look at me like that," she stated firmly as she clicked it off and put it on the charger in the supply room.

"Gail, I'm desperate, please stay. I have to go. Chloe's mom's in town and she hates me enough," Dov begged.

"I am already missing warm ups for Finn's t-ball game," Gail shook her head. "You couldn't pay me enough to miss that collection of little bodies and giant helmets swinging metal bats around."

"He has a game every week," Dov interjected. "It's just this one."

"Not happening, dweeb," Gail unholstered her weapon. "My kid's got a game and I like him more than you."

"I know," Dov sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just... you know."

"Just tell her you'll be home late, that's all you can do," Gail shrugged and went through the motions of leaving. "We've all had those nights. Holly practically gave me the cold shoulder for a week when I missed a family dinner because I forgot to move my schedule around."

"Yeah, I'm hoping to avoid that," her colleague leaned against the desk.

"There is no avoiding it," Gail shook her head. "Embrace it."

"You're never any help and I don't know why I keep asking you for things."

"Me neither," Gail shrugged and closed the locker for her weapon. "Maybe you should stop?" she smiled and backed out of the room, leaving him standing there. "Or at least have something better to trade than putting down my kid's big helmeted game day."

With that, Gail made her way to the locker room. She wouldn't miss a game for anything if it could be helped. It was something her and Holly talked about the night before they met with the social worker and began the process to make Finn their own. Before he had a name, when he was just a baby in a box that no one wanted and that had a heart murmur and wasn't gaining weight easily. Holly let her palm rest on Gail's neck and she told her so many things, about being afraid of dying and making a kid fall in love with her like her mother did to her and just leaving. Gail told her that she wanted to be better than her mother. And now she was.

Quickly Gail changed, throwing her uniform haphazardly into her bag for a cleaning. Holly would complain at her for not taking care of it; she was used to it. But she didn't care today. This afternoon was going to consist of a game and pizza with her family and then passing off her little man to his grandma so she could have a kid-free night with her beautiful and wondrous wife. Gail had plans.

"Thank God I caught you," Traci hurried behind Gail's fast steps towards the exit.

"I'm running late, Trace," Gail tried, shouldering her bag and stretching her neck against it.

"I need your help on Steve's present," the detective followed. Gail groaned and dug for her keys in her pockets, unable to remember where she put them. "His birthday is coming up and I need to know about the party."

"Finn's first official game of the season is today," Gail answered without looking up as she slammed her bag on the hood of the car and started to dig for those damned keys. "And I'm barely going to make it. We can figure it out on Monday, right?"

"I was kind of hoping to make it into a 'Being Alive' party for Holly as well," Traci explained. "I know that near Steve's birthday is her remission day, and I figured we could get the families on all sides together, do it right."

"That's... uh..." Gail swallowed the thickness on her tongue. She hated that the entire division knew, sometimes. She hated that she had to share that with them all because they were so supportive and wonderful and it made it harder to dislike them all. "We don't like to jinx it by celebrating. It's nice," she nodded, giving Traci a look that was thanks and gratitude all together. "It is a nice idea."

"Well, go on then," Traci smiled. "Tell him Auntie Traci will be at the next one for sure."

"Steve's stopping by with Leo," Gail said, grasping her keys finally. "I'll see if I can get any ideas for presents out of him."

"Yes, perfect," her sister-in-law grinned. "Tell them not too much junk from the concession stand, please?"

"No way," Gail shook her head and threw her bag in the back. "Holly doesn't let me have any junk, so I have to steal it off of them."

With just a wave thrown up as she headed back inside, Traci disappeared while laughing. Gail rolled her eyes and started her car, anxiously looking at the clock and outrageously thankful that she knew where speed traps were and wouldn't get a ticket for blowing lights on her way across town and down Lakeshore.

* * *

"Sorry," Holly smiled as she took her seat on the bleacher. "I just had to ask Gail to pick up a few things. I was swamped at work and didn't get to buy the snacks even though it is our turn."

"She's going to miss the start," Elaine shook her head at her daughter's tardiness.

"Believe me, she had some words for me," Holly sighed and tried to suppress a smile.

"I hope she at least gets something good," Matt shook his head.

Holly ignored her brother's worries and watched her son doing his stretches, or at least what one might call stretches when considering it was a group of five year olds with infinitesimal attention spans kicking their feet and swirling their arms. She caught number nine and he waved at her shyly. A dozen hands waved back in the form of grandmas and uncles and aunts and cousins.

"He gets bigger every time I see him," Elaine lamented.

"Yeah," Holly smiled sadly. She loved her son more than the world, more than the sun, more than the air she breathed, and she never thought it to be possible. But he tripped over his own foot and dropped a bat, and he liked to put army men in the drain of the bathtub and he had a habit of colouring on counters; to her, he was perfect. He was the best thing Gail ever gave her. He had made the past five years something magical.

"So, how was the doctor's today?" Lucy asked, tilting her head to watch her kids play in the dirt beside the backstop.

"Another good year, and hopefully a good one to come," her little sister smiled again. She was excited to tell Gail the news. She was excited to get the Kiss. Sure as the Dream came every year, so too did the Kiss. It was accompanied by the Smile, where Gail's face went from pained anxiety and stress that accumulated exponentially the week before the appointment, to overwhelming relief and pure happiness. A smile that was rarely seen on the snarky blonde, the pure smile that was reserved for only the best reasons. It meant that the kiss came next, and the Kiss was with the Smile still firmly in place and Gail couldn't contain it and she grabbed Holly and kissed her til their lungs wanted to explode like party favours and spout confetti everywhere. It was Holly's favourite.

"How did Gail do this year?" Lucy grinned, turning back to her sister. It was well-known how fickle and ridiculous Gail got around this week every year. Often told to relax by the Stewarts and mocked by the Pecks for her overprotective and anxious way, Gail was textbook. From the Dream to being short to being distant and locked in her own head, Holly took it in stride. It was simply Gail. Though she came a long way in their relationship, she was still a cat in a tree.

"Better," Holly decided after mulling. "I mean, she didn't make me do a stupid cleanse like a few years ago."

"The one with the gross juice?"

"Yeah," Holly laughed and shook her head. "And she didn't try to paint the living room like last year, or go off on some trip with James like the year before that."

"So what did she do?"

"Worked. I've barely seen her all week. She picked up extra shifts and has been working well before and after shift. I even think she went to work out."

"I guess it's better than that year she took up baking," Lucy chuckled. "She went through like fifty pounds of flour."

"Or the year she took it upon herself to try to find a new house," Holly added to the list.

"Still don't want to move?"

"I like our house," Holly shrugged and waved again to her son. "It's been where everything has happened in our entire life together. It's where Finn's height marks are, and has that loose railing, and the small yard with the horribly painted fence that Gail tried to do. It's our home."

"But haven't you two talked about having another?" Elaine joined in now, curious as to the state of having another grandchild to spoil.

"Not for a while," Holly fiddled with her hands anxiously. "I don't know. Gail keeps talking about moving a little farther out of downtown, but I like being within walking distance of a subway and streetcar, and I love taking Finn to the different parks and the lakefront."

"There are bigger houses downtown too," Lucy explained. "Or you can come on out to Markham with me and be suburban and junk."

"You must have teamed up with Gail," Holly shook her head. "I don't know. It's a weird thing to try to decide, to just pick another human to be part of a family. But who knows what the next year will bring."

"Don't you want another?" Lucy asked quietly, unable to let it drop.

"Well, yeah, I mean, I love our family now. I would be happy either way. It's just... why shouldn't we spread around a little more love, you know?"

"For now, you at least have an amazing little guy who is growing up really quickly."

"Yeah," Holly sighed again and checked her watch. The teams took to the field and Holly searched for her little green-shirted player. "I hope Gail makes it soon."

* * *

"You can't call her," Gail hissed as the doctor tapped and adjusted the tube in her chest.

"She's already in the waiting room," Traci shrugged and shook her head. "I had to, Gail, you're going to be in her over night at the very least."

"What about Finn's game?"

"He finished most of it before Holly got called thanks to your stubbornness," Traci scolded, still jotting things into her pad. "Can we please go over this one more time?"

"Holly asked me to get snacks. I grabbed oranges and Teddy Grahams," Gail rolled her eyes and sighed. Her head flopped petulantly against the pillow of the hospital bed. "I was in a rush and I grabbed everything. I didn't notice anything at all. I had one mission and I had to get it done so I wouldn't miss Finn's game. At the check out, the kid in front of me-"

"Joey Johnson," Traci supplied.

"I didn't ask his name, whatever," Gail shook her head again. "He was antsy, but I was antsy too, so I figured he was late for something too."

"What was he wearing?"

"Traci, I did this already," Gail complained. The detective didn't care. "Jeans, black sneakers, white shirt, old Raptor's jacket. He was about six-two, maybe six foot. Athletic build. Tattoo, right here," Gail tilted her head and pointed behind her hear and along her neck. "A mascot I couldn't recognize. I don't remember much of his face." Gail closed her eyes and tried again. "Short hair, crew cut almost, dark. Some facial hair, but not much. Maybe brown eyes. Hazel. I don't know."

"Okay, okay, good," Traci nodded. Her description matched the picture they pulled up from the security footage.

"He was buying a few things, or something, and he didn't wait for the cashier to start ringing him up, he pulled out a gun. The woman behind me screamed. I remember that. It was so loud, I stared at her before I looked back at him. He yelled at the cashier, I can't remember exactly what. She held up her hands. He told her to open the drawer, that's what he said. She was shaking. He pointed it at me and the woman behind me. I told her to sit down, like behind the belt with a basket. He told me to sit. I told him he should just drop it."

"When did you know it was unloaded?"

"When he put it up to my face. The cashier finally opened the register. He started to reach over and grab at it. I put my head down and tackled him as best I could. We rolled around and I tried to get his arm back. That damn woman kept screaming. It was so loud. And I think he punched me or something, but I held on, I don't remember. But he stabbed me and I couldn't really breathe, so he got up and ran after that."

Well, that's what we saw on the video," Traci continued to write. "I'll have this typed up and brought over for you to sign."

"Awesome," Gail gritted her teeth. "Is all of this necessary?" Gail looked at the doctor who was writing on her chart.

"Your lung collapsed," he shook his head. "I'm not doing this tube for fun."

"Alright, well," Gail sighed. "Carry on."

* * *

"Where's Mommy?" Finn asked, leaning his head back against Holly shoulder. Holly ran her hand along her forehead and kissed his temple.

"She's with the doctor and Auntie Traci. They're making her feel better so we can see her," Holly explained.

"But what happened? Where she get a booboo?"

"Someone was being mean to someone else, and Mommy stepped in and told him to stop, because she is a what?"

"A Police," he supplied.

"Right," Holly smiled through her worry. "So she was trying to stop a bad man and he hurt her, so the doctor is making her better and Auntie is trying to catch the bad man."

"When can we see her? I want to see her." He was firm and precise and sometimes Holly couldn't be sure that more of Gail had rubbed off on him than either would like to admit.

"Grandma is going to take you to her house to spend the night after she gets done helping. You can see Mommy when she gets home," Holly explained.

"After I see Mom," he retorted simply. Holly didn't want him to see Gail like that. She didn't want to; it gave her flashbacks to when she was beaten senseless, and any other time she got a call that something had happened. Even if it was as simple as 'I have to stay late,' or 'I just got punched,' made Holly anxious.

"We'll see," was all Holly could manage. Tired and defiant, the little boy rested his head once more and watched the quiet television in the corner. Holly could practically hear the gears going in his head.

After a few moments, a nurse told them it was almost time for them to go back to her room, and Finn sat up and looked at Holly expectantly. She pursed her lips and nodded until he sat back in the chair and smiled slightly.

"I'm going to be a policeman like Mom when I'm big," Finn decided quietly. He didn't look up at Holly, but sat in her lap and simply decided.

"Yeah? Did Grandma tell you that?" Holly grinned.

"No, but she said that I am a Peck, and Peck's are policemen. Like Grandpa and Uncle Steve and Uncle Chris and Aunt Traci, and I want to be like them."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Holly explained. "You can be a doctor like me, or a lawyer like Aunt Annie, or a baker like Uncle Matty."

"I want to catch bad guys," he insisted. "And help people."

"Well, we'll see what Mom has to say about that. But I wouldn't tell Grandma, or else you'll never live it down."

* * *

They didn't talk about cancer. Not directly. They actively ignored it. What time was left? Between jobs and a house and a kid and family and friends, they just never had to talk about it except for once a year. Today, it wasn't exactly at the top of the list anymore.

"Hi, guys," Gail smiled eagerly and sat up a bit more in bed.

"Oh my God," Holly put her hand over her mouth when she saw the tube and Gail's pallid face. "Gail," she sighed. Gail hated that look in her wife's eyes, that worried, terrified, what-the-hell-did-I-get-myself-into look.

"I'm fine," Gail promised. "Just a puncture wound."

"From a knife," Holly whispered, covering her son's ears.

"Yeah, well," Gail shrugged. "Hi, buddy. Can I have a hug?"

"Be careful," Holly warned, letting the little boy step up on a chair to hug his mom.

"I'm so sorry I missed your game," Gail told him as he threw his arms around her neck. She rubbed her hand along his back. "It definitely won't happen again."

"You are hurt, Mom?" he asked, pulling away.

"Yeah, but just a little," she explained, pointing towards the tube as she sat back.

"Did you stop the bad guy?" Big blue eyes met her own and she just nodded.

"I love you, big guy," she said, hugging him again. "I'm okay. I'll be okay."

"Is he getting hungry?" Elaine waited by the door.

"Yeah, I bet," Holly supplied. "Why don't you go with Grandma and I will pick you up in the morning, okay?" she asked her son. "We need to let Mommy heal."

After a few minutes of sorting out details, and another of Gail playing around with Finn and saying goodbye, It was just the two of them left in the room. Holly was struck with how weird it felt, once again, to be the one not in bed.

"I'm sorry," Gail sighed as Holly fretted over her chart.

"I'm never sending you for snacks," Holly shook her head and refused to look up. Gail smiled despite herself. "You got stabbed, Gail." She wanted to sound stronger, more upset, but Holly could only manage disbelief.

"Just a little," her wife offered. "I'm fine."

"Sometimes I forget that your job is your job, and you are who you are."

"Me too, if I'm lucky."

Holly blinked quickly because she didn't want to cry. So she closed the chart and laid it on the bed. Still without looking at Gail, she moved forward until her wife grabbed her hand and pulled her a bit closer.

"Remember when you were undercover, and you got hurt?" Holly asked, finally looking up. Gail nodded. Holly pushed her hair from her forehead softly. "You told me that they couldn't kill you because you had to come home; to me."

"I don't remember," Gail swallowed.

"I need you to remember it now, and don't ever forget it, okay?" Holly told her. She leaned forward and rested her forehead near her wife's. "I sent you for oranges and you get stabbed. You can't do that."

"Okay," Gail agreed. She ran her fingertips along Holly's forearm and looked decidedly guilty. "How was your appointment?" There were puppy eyes now. The same Gail got just a bit earlier, she was now giving and trying to hide behind a veil of bravery.

"I'm fine," Holly promised. "Healthy as ever."

"Yeah?" the Smile started.

"Yes," Holly swore. "I'm not going any-"

She was interrupted by the Kiss. She was interrupted by Gail's hand behind her neck and a pull that made her lips become busy. And she let herself be swept away by that feeling of love that can only come when being completely thanked for being alive, still.


End file.
